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THE LADY ROBERGIA. 



ROBERGIA 



a ^>torp of 



BY 

RICHARD Y. COOK 



Printed for Private Distribution 

PHILADELPHIA 
M C M V 



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COPYRIGHT, 1905 
RICHARD Y. COOK 



PRESS OF 

dward Stern & Co., Inc. 

PHILADELPHIA 



Contents. 

Page. 

Preface . . ' v 

Borden Castle — Part I 1 

In the New World— Part II 22 

The Message— Part III 30 

Addenda— Borden Pedigree, 1370-1904 91 

Descriptive Notes 



Illustrations. 



The Lady Robergia Frontispiece 

Page. 

The Old Oak, Headcorn 1 

Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Borden 19 

Headcorn, Kent— The Main Street 22 

Headcorn, Kent — From the Churchyard 26 

Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Headcorn .... 30 

The Nave and Chancel 35 

The Lady Chapel 41 

The Ancient Font 47 

Reproductions from Church Register 51 

Home of William Borden 67 

Memorial Brass — Tomb of William Borden .... 73 

Home of Margaret Reader 85 







mm sm. 



< M')(|»PJ ljr|||rtnu»-i| 
II ' t ' — ra r I 



BORDEN MEMORIAL WINDOW, CHURCH OF 
ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, HEADCORN, KENT. 



Robergia 



PREFACE 




he story of "Robergia" was writ- 
ten in the summer of 1901, and 
occupied the leisure moments of 
a two weeks' sojourn at Bayreuth, where 
Mrs. Cook and myself were attending the 
production of the Wagner operas. Origin- 
ally intended for the amusement of my 
grandchildren, the narrative has been 
thought by those interested to be worthy of 
preservation, and has, therefore, been put 
in type, the edition printed being limited to 
fifty copies. 

The reasonable interest which all Ameri- 
cans of English ancestry take in the mother 
country, and in those of her people of the 
olden times who were their ancestors, years 
ago moved me to undertake investigations 
a ong various lines of family history. One 
of the results of these inquiries has been to 

[ix] 



PREFACE 

find that Richard Borden, the first of the 
name in America, was, in England, a neigh- 
bor and friend of Captain Thomas Cooke, 
also the first of the name in America. They 
therefore naturally associated themselves in 
the New World in founding the town of 
Portsmouth, Rhode Island (1643). Their 
families also intermarried, and while my 
wife (born Lavinia Borden) can trace her 
descent through fifteen generations of the 
male line back to Henry Borden (1370) of 
Hedcorn, Kent, England, yet the interest 
thus created has, in my case, been still fur- 
ther enhanced by a knowledge of the friend- 
ships of those who lived so long ago. 

The certainty with which the descent of 
Richard Borden has been carried back to 
Henry Borden of Hedcorn, and Robergia, 
his wife, admits of no question, and the con- 
nection of Henry Borden (1370) and of 
his descendants down to William Borden 
(1531) with the town of Borden, in Kent, 
through inheritance of landed estates there, 
goes far to attest the correctness of the family 

[x] 



PREFACE 

tradition that the first Borden (then Bour- 
don) came to England from Normandy in 
the eleventh century, and that Sir Simon de 
Bourdon built the parish church at Borden 
at the close of the twelfth century. 

So much has seemed necessary in expla- 
nation of the little sketch which follows. In 
preparing it for publication I have had 
valuable assistance from Thomas Witherden 
Burden, Esq., and from his son, Sydney 
Burden, Esq., descendants of Henry Bor- 
den, of the fourteenth century, and both 
now resident at Headcorn, Kent, England. 
I am indebted to them for photographic 
reproductions of buildings and documents, 
and, in addition, Mr. Burden, Senior, has 
furnished the descriptive notes which 
accompany the various views, and has also 
been at great pains to verify the accuracy 
of the allusions to localities and authorities 
which are so frequent in the wills and papers 
quoted in the ''Addenda." This " Ad- 
denda" has been included as a natural and 
desirable addition to a work which, however 

[xi] 



PREFACE 

unpretentious from a literary standpoint, 
must be of great interest to all who can trace 
their descent back to those of the olden 
times, of whom it treats. 

Richard Y. Cook. 

"Wynnemere," Lansdowne, Pa., 
September 25, 1904. 



[xii] 




ROBERGIA 

|t was many, many years ago, so 
many, indeed, that I hesitate to 
begin my story lest you may 
doubt I know whereof I shall write, that 
a little girl lived in a grim old castle in 
the South of England, in what was known 
as the weald of Kent. Her name you 
could never have guessed had I not 
written it as the title of the story, of which 
little Robergia — maid, woman and wife — is 
the heroine. It was the month of March, 
in the year of our Lord 1194. The spring 
promised to be an early one, and the warm 
south wind from the Atlantic had already 
made the grass of greener hue, while swell- 
ing buds everywhere gave promise of the 
harvest of emerald leaves that would soon 
clothe the great forest surrounding the old 
castle, which stood like a sentinel on the 

[1] 



ROBERGIA 

top of a hill from which the country was 
visible for miles. It was surrounded by a 
moat, or ditch, in which water was always 
kept; for those were troublous times, and 
a draw-bridge, which spanned the moat at 
the only entrance, was drawn up at night 
when the great gates were closed and the 
watch posted. A high wall of stone sur- 
rounded the courtyard. On the top of the 
wall was a broad platform running entirely 
around it. This platform was protected by 
another wall, or rampart, about six feet 
high, in which narrow openings were left so 
that the archers, or bowmen, could shoot 
arrows at any one outside, but be protected 
themselves from an enemy's missiles. 
There were no firearms in those days, as 
gunpowder was not known in Europe, and 
the soldiers had long bows for weapons, 
while the knights, who rode on horseback, 
fought with lances and swords and battle- 
axes. The bodies of the knights were 
covered with armor of steel, although the 
common soldiers had to content themselves 

[2] 



ROBERGI A 

with helmets of iron and stiff coats of 
leather. The arrows of the "long bow- 
men," as they were called, often penetrated 
the knights' armor, however, and the Eng- 
lish bowman was the terror of Europe. 

There were not many soldiers in the castle 
in which our little girl lived. Four years 
before almost all of the retainers of her 
father, who was named Sir Simon de Bour- 
don, had accompanied him to the wars. 
More than one hundred years before, Sir 
Simon's grandfather had come from the 
sunny land of France with the great William 
of Normandy, and in a bloody battle fought 
close by where the old castle now stood, 
had helped to win Count William the crown 
of England. In return the grateful King 
had given him many thousands of acres of 
the conquered lands and the old Saxon 
castle that stood in their midst. It was in 
this castle, much improved and strength- 
ened by the three generations of de Bour- 
dons who were her ancestors, that the little 
Robergia de Bourdon lived. Her father 

L3] 



ROBERGI A 

had been four years away from home and 
in all that time only twice had she news of 
him. Once a soldier, returning from the 
wars, had stopped over night on his way to 
Hedcorn, a village some fifteen miles away, 
where his people lived, and had told how, 
after much suffering, the English army and 
their leader, King Richard the lion-hearted, 
had reached Palestine, where they had gone, 
together with the army of King Philip of 
France, to rescue the tomb of Christ from 
the infidel Turk, and had fought a great 
battle. 

Robergia's old nurse — Ursula by name 
— had brought this soldier up stairs from 
the buttery — as the kitchen was then called 
— and the little girl listened with glistening 
eyes as the soldier told how the great 
Richard had fought ever in the van of the 
battle, and that her father had been with 
him, and then she wept as he described how 
the King had been stricken down by a 
poisoned arrow so that his life had been 
despaired of ; but when the soldier told how 

[4] 



ROBERGI A 

Richard's Queen Berengaria had herself 
sucked the poison out of the wound so that 
the King got well again, Robergia got up 
from off her chair and raising her hands to 
heaven, asked God to bless the Queen and 
to bring her father and her King back safely 
again — and to give her strength, as He had 
given Queen Berengaria, the strength to 
always do her duty. 

The second visitor was one of the wan- 
dering minstrels, common in those days to 
all of Europe, and welcomed everywhere, 
not only for the music they made, but be- 
cause of the legends they sang, and the 
news they brought. This minstrel was an 
old, old man who had seen much and heard 
more. The little girl listened with pleasure 
to his songs of love and war and chivalrous 
adventure, and sad she was to have him 
leave; but after a week's stay he departed, 
despite the efforts made to have him remain. 
When he left he went north towards Lon- 
don, but before he departed he gave to the 
steward his real message, which was that 

[5] 



R O B E R G I A 

King Richard and Sir Simon were impris- 
oned in the heart of Germany through the 
perfidy of the German Emperor, instigated 
thereto by King John, Richard's brother^ 
and that he had been sent to England to 
warn King Richard's friends. 

Now Robergia was not by any means an 
ordinary little girl. At the time of which 
I write she was twelve years old, and her 
birthday, which came on the 13th of March, 
would soon arrive. Her mother had been 
dead for more than a year. Unlike her 
father, who was Norman-French, her mother 
was a Saxon, and of the race which gov- 
erned England before Count William of 
Normandy landed on her shores and won 
a kingdom at the battle of Hastings. All 
the lands over which little Robergia looked 
out as she stood at the windows of the 
tower-room into which her bed-chamber 
opened, had once belonged to her mother's 
people. The new King of England had 
given them by right of conquest to the de 
Bourdon who had left his home in Nor- 

[6] 



R O B E R G I A 

mandy and followed him to the wars. But 
the conquered people were a great people 
also. A hundred years of conquest had 
not broken their spirit, and Sir Simon de 
Bourdon in the year 1180, and at Christmas, 
had married the heiress of the old Saxon 
owner of his castle and his lands, and now 
in little Robergia de Bourdon were united 
both the claims of right and of conquest to 
the broad acres of which one day she was 
to be the mistress, for her mother was dead 
and she was an only child. This mother 
she had dearly loved, and who doubts that 
this mother also loved her little girl? 

The Saxons were a different race from 
the Normans. Their virtues were domestic. 
The Norman rode over the land — the Saxon 
tilled it. The Norman aspired to control 
and to govern — the Saxon loved his home 
and sought its ownership for himself, and 
respected the same ownership as his neigh- 
bor's right. The Norman was extravagant, 
and at times unjust — the Saxon was frugal 
and, although uncultivated, righteous at 

[7] 



ROBERGI A 

heart The Norman was chivalrous, but 
impracticable — the Saxon was plain in his 
manners, but exact in fulfilment of his 
promises. It was these two races that were 
united in the little girl whose lot it was to 
live so long ago and with such strange 
companionship, for since her dear mother 
had died she had but two companions be- 
sides her tutor, and these were Ursula, her 
old Saxon nurse, and Bruno, the staghound 
that each night slept on a mat at her cham- 
ber door, and would have died rather than 
let harm come to his mistress. Nor was 
Robergia so small. She was tall for her 
years, and carried her head high, as had 
been the wont of all her father's line, for 
pride, with them, both went before and 
followed after, and they had been used to 
command first and give their reasons after- 
wards. All of this had led to quarrels 
innumerable, both at home and abroad, and 
the de Bourdons had need of a firm seat 
in the saddle and much skill at arms to 
have survived all the contests into which 

[8] 



ROBERGI A 

haughtiness of manner and arrogance of 
language had brought them. Sir Simon, 
however, had much of wisdom in his com- 
position, and when he united the old and 
the new owners of his estate by marriage 
with the Saxon lady who had given him our 
little Robergia, it was after much reflection 
and with special sanction of the King, who 
himself courted the favor of the growing 
power of the Saxon holders of the land 
which was fast drifting back into the owner- 
ship of that part of the population which 
alone exercised thrift and self-control. 

Robergia, who also bore her mother's 
name, was, like her, just and merciful. Of 
course so young a girl made many mistakes, 
but none of them came from her heart. It 
was the grand air and flashing eye and im- 
petuous language of her Norman ancestors 
which burst forth that very day as she 
reproved the steward for punishing an old 
swineherd whose flock had wandered into 
the countless acres of the estate after the 
acorns which lay rotting under the great 

[9] 



ROBERGI A 

oaks of its forests, but it was the gentleness 
of the Saxon mother which prompted her 
to raise the poor old man and send him to 
his hut again on her own palfrey and with 
one of her own attendants. And so it was 
that she was beloved by every one, whether 
Saxon or Norman — whether in the castle, 
or at the humble firesides of the peasants, 
whose huts were scattered through the 
forest, and whose labor paid for the little 
plots they tilled and the firewood they 
burned. 

As I have already written, it was in March 
of the year 1194 and in a few days the 
twelfth anniversary of Robergia's birthday 
would arrive. As she talked and planned 
with old Ursula, how she longed for her 
father and wondered whether the wandering 
minstrel's story was true, and whether King 
Richard and her father might reach the 
English land again. On the night before 
the 13th a great storm arose, driving in from 
off the ocean and covering all the land with 
fog. A drenching rain fell from inky clouds 

[10] 



ROBERGI A 

and the wind rattled at the casements and 
moaned around the tower in which Rober- 
gia's chamber was. This night she could 
not sleep, and calling Ursula she had her 
lamp lighted and getting out of bed sat 
listening to the storm. 

It was about midnight, and the gale was 
at its worst, when Bruno, who had been 
allowed to come into the room, suddenly 
got on his feet and gave a menacing growl. 
Just then the challenge of the sentinel on 
the wall at the main gate was heard. The 
little girl and her nurse both started up in 
alarm. It was seldom, indeed, that stran- 
gers came to the castle even by daylight; 
but, owing to the troubled state of the 
country, no one ever traveled after dark, 
unless it might be the King's messengers 
(for John, Richard's brother, had given out 
that the King was dead, and had taken 
steps to usurp the throne which he had 
been left to guard while his brother was 
at the wars). Quick and sharp was the 
challenge of the sentinel, and quick and 

[11] 



ROBERGI A 

sharp the reply. Almost before it was 
heard in the tower-room, which overlooked 
the postern, the dog's growl had changed 
to a glad bark, and it was her father's voice 
which answered the sentinel with "a Bour- 
don, a Bourdon; open the gate." 

Some further parley there was before the 
old steward ordered the guard to raise 
the portcullis and drop the bridge to ad- 
mit the strangers ; for with Sir Simon there 
was another knight, a man of great stature 
and haughty bearing, who wore the visor 
of his helmet down. And so it was that 
on the 13th of March, 1194, Robergia de 
Bourdon celebrated her twelfth birthday, 
and had with her as her guests her long 
absent father and the great Richard, King 
of England. 

Shipwrecked on his return from Pales- 
tine, where he had made a three years' 
truce with the Sultan Saladin, Richard had 
been perfidiously held by Duke Leopold 
VI of Austria, who imprisoned him in the 
fortress of Darnstein, and held him for a 

[12] 



ROBERGI A 

ransom. The Emperor Henry VI of 
Germany paid the ransom asked (50,000 
marks), but instigated thereto by Richard's 
treacherous brother, the Emperor re-im- 
prisoned Richard in the Castle of Trifels 
until a larger ransom was paid. In Febru- 
ary, 1194, after nearly eighteen months of 
confinement, Richard negotiated his release 
with the Emperor Henry, paying 100,000 
marks down, and promising to pay 50,000 
marks more after he reached England. It 
took another month before the royal wan- 
derer and his faithful vassal, Robergia's 
father, found themselves on the coast of 
Normandy, whence they took ship, and on 
the 11th day of March landed safely on the 
south coast of England. Avoiding the 
parties sent out to watch the shore, and 
traveling only by night and through the 
forests by paths well known to Sir Simon, 
the King had come to his vassal's castle, 
and it was a right royal welcome that was 
given him. Messengers were sent out so 
soon as daylight came to summon those 

[13] 



ROBERGI A 

who could be trusted, and Robergia's birth- 
day was spent in the service of her King. 
None the less happy was she ; for did she 
not have her father, and was not her guest 
the hero of all the tales of her childhood, 
as indeed he was the foremost of Europe's 
chivalry ? 

But I must not make my story too long. 
King Richard was re-crowned at Winches- 
ter on April 17, 1194, and, with all his 
faults, he was the foremost figure of his 
time, and a great Plantagenet, for so were 
his line and house called. At this cere- 
mony both Robergia and her father were 
present, for so the King would have it. As 
Robergia stood in the great cathedral, her 
thoughts were such as few girls of her age 
have had before or since. Shut up as she 
had been in an old castle, and seeing little 
of the world, her life had been entirely 
spent among those older than herself, and 
for amusements she had only her studies 
and the few old manuscripts which were 
her confessor's, or had belonged to her 

[14] 



ROBERGI A 

mother. Among these was one from the 
works which a Saxon King (the great Al- 
fred) had caused to be compiled, and in the 
translation of which it was said he had him- 
self at times engaged. It was this book, 
accompanied by the wise teachings of her 
confessor, who was also her tutor, and 
about whom I shall soon tell you, that 
largely formed her character. 

It may seem strange to you that so 
young a girl should be interested in a book 
by so old a title as the "Consolations of 
Philosophy ; " but you must remember how 
peculiar were the conditions under which 
Robergia lived, and, more than that, you 
must also recall that King Alfred, with 
whom she connected the book, was the idol 
of the English people, and the greatest 
King that England has ever had. And so 
it was that when Bishop de Lucy, the Dio- 
cesan of Winchester, placed the crown on 
King Richard's head, Robergia saw more 
than the ceremony before her eyes, and 
recalled the Saxon King as w r ell, whose 

[15] 



ROBERGI A 

capital city Winchester had been, and who, 
more than two hundred years before, had 
given to her mother's people the lands 
which some day would be hers. Before 
going back to the castle, Robergia asked 
to be shown the place where King Alfred 
had been buried, and under the east win- 
dow in the "new monastery" which he 
had founded, she saw the tomb of the great 
Saxon King. 

Returning to the castle she took up the 
routine of daily life. Her father made 
much of her, but it was soon apparent that 
he was not to be long with his little girl. 
The hardships of the campaigns in Pales- 
tine and the journey home had broken his 
health. The next year he died, and our 
little girl was left alone, save for the faith- 
ful Ursula and her tutor. When her 
mother came to live at the castle she had 
asked of her husband that she might have 
as the priest of the chapel in the castle her 
own Saxon confessor, and not a Norman 
monk, and to this Sir Simon had agreed. 

[16] 



ROBERGI A 

This priest was named Athelstan, and he 
was a good man. In that day priests were not 
always what they should be ; but Athelstan 
remembered what the Lord and Master 
taught, and, putting aside appetite for 
worldly honors and ambitions, strove only 
to do his Lord's bidding. When the 
mother died she charged her confessor that 
he should always care for her dear little 
daughter, and thus it was that Robergia, 
although without father and mother, had 
indeed two devoted friends. 

When her father's will was read there 
was in it a clause which was not then un- 
usual, but which would now seem strange. 
Sir Simon left everything he had to his 
daughter, provided she should marry her 
cousin, Francis de Bourdon, that the lands 
might not go out of the name ; otherwise 
all his broad acres were to belong to his next 
of kin, who was Francis de Bourdon, who 
lived in Normandy, and who was the second 
son of his cousin, and was therefore Ro- 
bergia's second cousin. Besides his castle 

[17] 



ROBERGI A 

and lands, Sir Simon left much money and 
plate, and altogether Robergia was a very 
rich little girl, indeed, and when, in the 
year 1200 and at Christmas, she married 
her cousin, Francis de Bourdon, of Bayeux, 
all of Kent came to the wedding, and no 
one had ever seen a grander ceremony nor 
a handsomer couple. 

As I have already said, Robergia was 
wise even beyond her years and thoughtful. 
When her mother died she was buried in 
the vault of the family chapel within the 
castle walls, and her father was laid beside 
his wife when death took him also. As 
the years had passed since the de Bourdons 
had been lords of the land, the population 
had increased very much. Many spots in 
the forest had been cleared, and at one 
place, not more than a mile from the castle 
gate, a village had sprung up, and many 
houses had been built. It was here, after 
much consultation with Athelstan, that Ro- 
bergia decided to build a church that should 
be a memorial to her father and her mother. 

[18] 



R O B E R G I A 

This building was begun in the year 1199, 
and the tower and transepts were com- 
pleted in the year 1204. After that the 
work was more slowly done, and it was not 
until the year 1210 that everything was 
finished, and the parish church of Bourdon 
was consecrated. 

Now, our little girl, grown to be a stately 
woman and the mother of two beautiful 
boys (one named Simon and the other called 
after her hero-king — Richard), was pecu- 
liar in many things. She was above all 
things thankful for her mother's line and 
example, and after that she gave proper 
value to the pride and care which had 
separated her father's line from the faults 
and lack of forethought which were common 
to the great mass of the people in the days 
in which he lived. And above all she was 
just and merciful. So it was that on the 
day on which the church at Bourdon was 
consecrated she had her confessor prepare 
a sheet of parchment, and on it was written 
in the curious monkish Latin mixture of 

[19] 



ROBERGI A 

the written language of the times, the fol- 
lowing, which I translate so that it may be 
understood : 

" Be just — for the Lord has only loaned 
us that which we have, whether of goods 
or of talents, and in their use we must con- 
sider the rights of all men. 

" Be merciful — for we shall have no 
greater claim to the mercy we all shall 
finally need than that we forgave our broth- 
ers' faults. 

" Be true — to friendship and to God, for 
truth is all of this life worth the having, and 
perfect truth is what the life to come shall 
reveal to us. It is the prince of darkness 
that is the prince of lies." 

This parchment was sealed up in a 
leaden box and placed in a hollow stone, 
cemented into the second course of the 
tower of the church on the inside, and 
directly opposite a stone in the opposite 
wall on which was cut a cross. And the 
church was consecrated in due form, the 
Lady Robergia and her husband, Francis 

[20] 



ROBERGIA 

de Bourdon, attending mass, and kneel- 
ing at the altar, their little sons beside 
them. And in the year of our Lord 1220 
the Lady Robergia died. 



[21] 



R O B E R G I A 



PART II. 

Does the world grow old; or is it that 
with the lapse of years and as the centuries 
pass on in ever moving cycles, our dear and 
patient mother still renews her youth ? 
Sure I am that for those who treat her well 
she always wears a smiling visage — nor do 
her gifts ever fail when industry and patience 
sow the seed and faith awaits the harvest. 
She only asks of her children that they 
shall be wise and temperate as was she her- 
self through the countless ages in which she 
stored for their comfort and use the riches 
which lie under the mountains and in her 
fertile plains. She may seem old when 
grim-visaged war sweeps across her plains, 
and tyranny oppresses her sons and daugh- 
ters and takes from them the fruits of their 
labors — but she grows young again with the 
joys of giving. Her coal for industry, her 
grain for the husbandman, her gold and 

[22] 



ROBERGI A 

gems for the adornment of the beautiful 
among her children. Music and art abide 
in her life, and for those who will learn she 
ever offers the example of obedience to the 
great lawgiver in whose service she has 
always had her existence, and at whose be- 
hest all her deeds are done. 



It was the year of our Lord 1890. Again 
has spring come in the ever-recurring cycles 
of rest and fruitfulness which follow the 
sun in his course, and it is in the new world 
that our story is enacted by those in whose 
fortunes our interest is centered. 

A carriage drawn by a pair of stylish bays 
is just entering the drive which leads from 
the main road to a house, part new, part 
old, which is visible across the lawn, and at 
the end of a shady avenue over which a 
double row of maples arch their boughs. 
Two colored men sit upon the box. The 
carriage has but one occupant, a lady, dressed 
in white, for the month of May in the 

[23] 



ROBERGI A 

Middle States of the North American Re- 
public is at times warm. There is some- 
thing in the poise of the lady's head and 
attitude which suggest grace of movement 
even before she alights at the door of the 
house, which another colored man opens 
for her entrance. As she smiles her ac- 
knowledgment of the footman's attention 
at the carriage door, she turns for a moment 
to say a word to the coachman in praise of 
the condition of his horses, and then enters 
the house. 

The observer hesitates a moment in 
doubt. Can it be that I have been mis- 
taken? In the quick estimate of character 
made when first I saw the carriage and 
its occupant at the top of the hill and after- 
wards as they swept up the drive, I had 
concluded that pride formed the govern- 
ing element in the lady's character and that 
haughtiness accompanied the beauty which 
I could not help but admire. There was 
no mistaking the carriage of the head — 
for pride was written all over the contour 

[24] 



ROBERGI A 

of neck and shoulders as their owner sat, 
and anon rose gracefully to alight. I had 
seen the same things too often in old pic- 
tures to be mistaken now. And yet here 
was this proud beauty who had not vouch- 
safed me a single glance as she passed, 
smiling on her servants — and soon a musi- 
cal laugh and pleasant voice are wafted 
through an open window as some one — 
doubtless she herself — tells "Willie" to 
bring the new evening dress which is to 
surprise — but who the prospective lucky 
victim of astonishment is to be, I do not 
hear. "Willie" I do see, however, for she 
passes across the hall, and past the open 
door, carrying a large box — and "Willie " 
is not a man, as might have been supposed, 
but a maid, and colored, as seem to be all 
the other inhabitants of this house, saving 
only my lady in white. But, notwithstand- 
ing all I have seen, I still stand by my first 
impressions — she is as proud as Lucifer! 

Transacting the business which had 
brought me to the little post village at the 

[25] 



ROBERGI A 

foot of the hill, I decide to retrace my 
steps, although the direct road to Philadel- 
phia, where I must be that evening, lies in 
another direction, and conclude to take 
the train at a station lying beyond the top 
of the hill on which is the house up to 
whose door my lady of pride and conde- 
scension drove that afternoon. As I reach 
the gate the same carriage which I had seen 
two hours before is again just descending 
the hill. There is now, however, but one 
man on the box, while its sole occupant is 
a gentleman apparently about forty years 
of age. He is stoutly built, wears a silk 
hat, and is dressed with rather an affectation 
of neatness. Business and care for affairs 
is plainly written in the evenly balanced 
curves of the well-rounded contour of his 
head, as well as in the gray eyes and firm 
lines of the face which is now looking at 
me over the top of the newspaper, which 
he has been reading and is just about to 
fold up as a preparation for the alighting, 
which I know is soon to take place at the 

[26] 



ROBERGI A 

door through which the lady in white dis- 
appeared earlier in the afternoon. Some- 
thing which I had heard in the little town 
at the foot of the hill had increased my 
interest in this couple of the house at its 
top, and I invent an excuse for accosting 
the gentleman, only sorry that I had not 
risked a rebuff earlier when the lady, too, 
had passed that way. Seeing my intention 
the gentleman directed his driver to stop, 
and to my inquiry as to whether I was on 

the right road to L and could get a 

train there for Philadelphia, received an in- 
stant answer that covered in a few words all 
that I could possibly want to know in con- 
nection with the ostensible object of my 
inquiry. I was told that " I was on the 
right road; had fifteen minutes' walk to the 

station at L , would find a train in five 

minutes after reaching there, and would be 
in Philadelphia at — ," pulling out his watch 
and consulting it, "twenty minutes past 5 
o'clock." Before I had quite digested the 
answer the horses had started, and inclining 

[27] 



ROBERGI A 

his head in reply to my salutation and 
thanks, the gentleman, following in the foot- 
steps of the lady — and pleasant ones I still 
thought them — had alighted at the same 
door, which he unlocked with a pass-key 
and entered, carefully closing it behind him. 
That I am a traveling man is probably 
against me, for the drummer has the 
same bad reputation the world over. That 
I am unmarried is my special misfortune ; 
and if ever I had thought so before, 
much the more did I think so as I toiled 
up the hill and along the road past cottage 
after cottage until at last I reached the sta- 
tion and was hurried into the city. What 
a lucky fellow, thought I, to have such a 
woman to spoil — and who wouldn't have a 
stable and an outfit of servants and milli- 
ners' bills and opera boxes, if such a "my 
lady" were on hand to grace them! But 
what a fool I was — only a glimpse on the 
road and through a door, with ten minutes 
of gossip at a country store, and visions, 
coming and going, were dancing through 

[28] 



ROBERGI A 

my head as if she were fancy free and I 
knight errant. Well, be it so; but with it 
all I know the style — as proud as Lucifer — 
but the man who understands her has no 
common fortune to his lot in this prize of 
matrimony which he has drawn. 

Whether I shall ever see either of the 
inmates of the house on the hill again, I 
do not know, and, as regards the gentle- 
man, I do not care ; but if ever again my 
firm should send me from Boston, on a 
hurry call to Philadelphia, I think I shall 
again walk from D to L , and, per- 
haps, lie awake of nights also, wondering at 
some people's luck and others' misfortunes. 



[29] 



ROBERGI A 



PART III 



It is said that migrating birds, crossing 
the track which the ships of Columbus fol- 
lowed, influenced him to a more southerly 
course. It was this deviation that brought 
his vessels to the Bahamas for a landing, 
and left the great North American Conti- 
nent free from the domination of Spain. It 
was for England and for the descendants of 
Englishmen that, in God's wise providence, 
this great Western land was destined, and 
so small a thing as the flight of vagrant 
birds, in their passage from a summer to a 
winter home, became the instrument in His 
hands for the accomplishment of His pur- 
pose. The Puritan of New England, the 
Quaker of Pennsylvania, and the more 
aristocratic immigrants of New York and 
Virginia, found a virgin soil awaiting their 
coming, and a climate and surroundings 
which invited them to productive effort 

[30] 



R O B E R G I A 

and a method of life which stimulated 
independence both in thought and action. 
It was natural, therefore, that the best type 
of manhood and of government in the long 
line of Norman, of Saxon, and of German 
ancestry, out of which England's people had 
sprung, should reappear in the new Western 
world to which these sons of the motherland 
had come. There is much that has hap- 
pened between the year of our Lord 1900 
and the flight of migrating birds across the 
course of the three little ships which carried 
Columbus and his adventurous crews ; but 
no greater influence for good has the world 
ever seen than was then exerted by these 
birds of passage. 
* * ***** * 

"If you can get ready by the 18th, we 
will go to Europe." The speaker was the 
gentleman already known to the reader 
as the owner of the house on the hill ; 
the person addressed, as may be readily 
guessed, was the "lady in white," with 
whom we are also acquainted. The gen- 

[31] 



ROBERGI A 

tleman looks somewhat older than when 
he answered the question addressed to him 
at his front gate ; the lady gives no sign of 
lapse of years. " But," said she, "you told 
me you could not go when I asked you in 
May last, and now it is July, and you un- 
expectedly change your mind. Not that 
I cannot get ready," she added hurriedly, 
"for you know I am always prepared to go 
to Europe ; but isn't this change somewhat 
sudden?" 

"Well, you see, my dear," replied the 
gentleman, "the world of business, which 
claims me, and the world of pleasure, over 
which you preside, and in which I at times am 
permitted to live, do not always agree in their 
mandates. Fortunately, the affair which 
promised to come to a head at midsummer 
has been postponed until fall, and I can 
now get away for two months, which I be- 
lieve is your minimum European tour. If, 
therefore, you can have my own belongings 
and yours packed by Saturday next, I have 
the refusal of our old room on the " Lu- 

[32] 



ROBERGI A 

cania," while Mr. Keppie cables me from 
Liverpool that he will hold our cabin for 
the return voyage in September. What 
say you?" 

"If it were not for the children you very 
well know what I would say," replied the 
lady. " I will ask Nannie ; " and she arose 
from her chair and went across the hall to 
the telephone. Ringing up " Wynnestay," 
which was connected by private wire, and 
where their only and married son lived, the 
following conversation took place : 

"Well, is that Miss Nannie? No. 
Please ask her to come to the telephone. 
Is that you, dear? How are the chil- 
dren? How is my little violet eyes? 
Asleep. And how is naughty little Em? 
Asleep, too. Well, kiss them both for me. 
Have they been well to-day? What do 
you think, pa now says he can go to Europe, 
and wants me to be ready on Saturday, and 
this is only Tuesday? Would you and 
' Jag ' be willing ? Of course, if I want to go. 
Would miss me awfully. But think pa 

[33] 



R O B E R G I A 

ought to have his vacation, and 'Jag' would 
say the same. Awfully sudden, though. I 
should say so ; but I don't think I can 
leave the children for Europe or for any- 
thing else ; and if I do take your advice and 
go, it will be the last time. Good-by, dear." 

"Have you decided?" was the greeting 
which met our lady of the telephone on her 
return to the library. The answer was a 
somewhat hesitating "yes ; " and so it hap- 
pened that on July 18, 1900, Mr. and Mrs. 
Richard Y. Cook, of Philadelphia, were 
comfortably established in Cabin No. 1 on 
the Cunarder "Lucania;" and having ar- 
ranged their effects, were sitting on the 
promenade deck, in their steamer-chairs, 
watching the fast-disappearing Long Island 
shore as the great liner ploughed her way 
to the eastward. 

"Do you know," said the gentleman, 
"that I have never told you the real rea- 
son for our sudden trip to Europe? " 

"Indeed," said the lady; "and pray why 
not, for I shall want a good reason since my 

[34] 




NAVE AND CHANCEL, 

CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, 

HEADCORN, KENT. 

[See Note 1".] 



ROBERGI A 

pleasure seems not to have been the incit- 
ing cause?" 

" Because, ' ' said he, " I wanted to have the 
gratification of feeling that you were going to 
please me, and after that to have the added 
pleasure of doing everything I could to 
make your trip a pleasant one. So see now 
what I have laid out for your profit and 
amusement? About three months since," 
continued the speaker, " I thought I would 
see what I could find out about the story 
which has been handed down in your 
father's family concerning the first immi- 
grant to America coming in his own ship, 
etc., etc." 

"And what have you found out?" said 
the lady quickly. 

"Well, just sufficient to prove it not true, 
but with enough of verity to account for the 
tradition. The first immigrant may have 
come in his own ship, but there is no way 
of proving it ; but, in the second migration 
from New England to New Jersey, which 
took place in the eighteenth century, the 

[35] 



ROBERGI A 

Borden of that day and journey undoubt- 
edly transported himself and his effects by 
water, and in all probability sailed in his 
own vessel." 

"You interest me," said the lady. "And 
what else did you find out?" 

"I will tell you," said he; "or, better still, 
I will read it to you, for I have written it 
all out." And going into the cabin he al- 
most immediately came out with a formid- 
able roll of manuscript in his hand. 

" Let me see," said the lady, laying down 
her book and looking at her watch. " It is now 
four o'clock, dinner at seven, thirty minutes 
in which to dress, leaves two and one-half 
hours for the reading. I will sacrifice my 
nap to the manes of my ancestors, and if I 
prove not to be a good listener it will be 
because of the faults of the narrative ; the 
audience and the subject are, of course, be- 
yond criticism." 

The narrative was called "The 
Borden (anciently Bourdon) Family in 
America," and while I will not give it here 

[36] 



ROBERGI A 

in full, sufficient to say that it was almost six 
o'clock before it was finished. Compressed 
into reasonable compass it seemed that 
Richard Borden, of Kent, England, had 
emigrated to America in 1633, and had set- 
tled first on the island of Aquidneck, Rhode 
Island, and had afterwards laid out the 
town of Portsmouth, in the same State. 
More or less active in public affairs in each 
generation, his descendants had been traced 
with certainty to the Borden who had, in 
turn, taken up lands in New Jersey, and the 
eight generations beginning with Richard 
Borden and ending with Lavinia, daughter of 
John Borden, and wife of Richard Y. Cook, 
of Philadelphia, were defined and described 
with accuracy and great wealth of detail. A 
most interesting feature of this genealogy 
was that, by intermarriage between the two 
families in the past, Richard Borden had 
also become one of the husband's ancestors 
as well. So that the two travelers who 
were crossing the Atlantic in the year 1900 
had the same great-grandfather, who, in the 

[37] 



ROBERGI A 

seventeenth century, made the same jour- 
ney; but under what different conditions, 
and with how little idea of the wealth of 
history that was to follow ! 

"How interesting ! " said the wife, as the 
reader ceased and folded his manuscript. 
" And to think that one of your great-grand- 
fathers should have married one of my dear 
old great-grandmothers way back in the 
times when the Indians were in the woods, 
and the men went to church with guns in 
their hands! Now I know," added she, 
"why it is I couldn't help liking you. You 
see my old great-grandmother sealed my 
fate for me." 

" And may the Lord reward her with all 
good things," replied the husband. "Don't 
you know," he continued, "that two other 
matters in this narrative have greatly inter- 
ested me, and have directly led to the jour- 
ney we are now making ? In the first place, 
it is absolutely sure that the Cooks and the 
Bordens were neighbors in England before 
coming to America. You see the first 

[38] 



ROBERGI A 

Cook here (Thomas by name) and the 
first Borden arrived within one year of each 
other, and settled at the same place. One 
evidently sent for the other by prior ar- 
rangement. This is one of the things I 
want to look up. The other point of inter- 
est is the use, way back in the beginning of 
the eighteenth century, of the surname of 
'Robergia.' I don't know why it is, but 
this name, which one of the young mothers 
of the line gave her first-born daughter, 
haunts me. That it is a family name I 
cannot doubt. It is too unusual to be an 
accident. It is also in derivation a curious 
mixture of Norman and Anglo-Saxon, and 
its use by this mother of the new country 
points most clearly to a prior mother of the 
same name in the old land across the sea. 
If you are willing, therefore, I want to de- 
vote whatever is necessary of our time to 
finding out whether there has not been a 
' Robergia ' in the Borden line in England 
prior to 1633, and just when and where she 
lived, for I am sure the name is so old a 

[39] 



ROBERGI A 

one that if we discover the first who bore it 
we will have found who and what was the 
oldest Borden within the reach of modern 
inquiry." 

" How curious ! " said the lady ; " but do 
you know that when you read that name in 
your narrative my heart jumped and a queer 
sensation passed over me. Of course, it is 
all nonsense; but if I believed in such things, 
I would say that the spirit of some c Rober- 
gia' of the long ago had influenced me. It 
is strange," she continued reflectively, "but 
I already feel that I could no more go back 
without a search for l Robergia ' than live 
without you and my dear ones at home." 
And so it was that the search for the " Lady 
Robergia Borden" was agreed upon. 

Some materials had been collected, it 
seemed. The gentleman had found, in his 
search among the annals of Kent, that 
there was an old town there called Borden, 
situated near Sittingbourne, a station on the 
Southeastern Railroad, about fifty miles 
from London. Writing to a correspondent 

[40] 




LADY CHAPEL, 

CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, 

HEADCORN, KENT. 

[See NoH G 



R O B E R G I A 

in London, he had received a letter just be 
fore sailing, in which was the information 
hurriedly conveyed that a great deal had 
been ascertained, but, of necessity, reserved 
for a personal interview, which was sug- 
gested at the Hotel Metropole, in London, 
for the Saturday evening of the arrival of 
the "Lucania" at Liverpool. The letter 
read : " My information is of that character, 
and your stay is to be so short, that I deem 
it wise to communicate with you at the 
earliest moment possible after your arrival. 
Please come immediately from Liverpool 
to London. I will call at the Hotel Metro- 
pole, where I understand you always stop 
when in London, and shall expect to find 
you there at 8 p.m. on July 25th." The 
signature of one of the best genealogists in 
England was affixed to this letter. 

"Well," said the lady, "here is a sur- 
prise — and what a delightful air of mystery 
about it all! — and such a dear hubby to have 
arranged it all for me! But," continued 
she, thoughtfully, "I cannot explain the 

[41] 



ROBERGI A 

feeling I experienced when first you men- 
tioned the name 'Robergia' to me. It was 
as if some invisible power had laid hold 
of me that was both compelling and be- 
seeching. Indeed, it frightens me when I 
think of it. What is the ' Lady Robergia ' 
to me, and what am I to 'Robergia?' ' 

" That is just what I am determined to 
find out," said the husband, "and if your 
wit, my pertinacity, and our London cor- 
respondent's knowledge do not discover it, 
you may rest assured that it is undiscover- 
able." 

The usual routine of life aboard ship 
passed through its six days of continually 
recurring incidents. The captain, reason- 
ably affable to the passengers at his table, 
our voyagers being there established for 
their meals, attended strictly to business 
when not in the saloon, and navigated his 
ship, leaving gossip and small talk to those 
who enjoyed it. The purser buckled on 
his sword-belt on Sunday and read the ser- 
vice, and particularly the petition for " Peace 

[42] 



ROBERGI A 

in our time," with great unction. The pas- 
sengers, divided into first trippers who 
didn't know and old stagers who did, were 
equally and impartially treated by Neptune 
in the distribution of the prizes of the 
Mal-de-mer lottery. The concert was given 
as usual in the saloon on Thursday evening. 
On Friday, at noon, the Irish coast was 
sighted, and at half-past 2 o'clock the Fast- 
net was abeam. Queenstown was reached 
on the same afternoon at 5 o'clock, and the 
two tenders, "America" and "Ireland," 
were found awaiting the great ship at the 
entrance to the harbor. The passengers 
for Ireland and the mails were soon trans- 
ferred, and with a sigh the engines again 
began their task as the last 240 miles of the 
long voyage from New York to Liverpool 
were rapidly covered by the fast-moving 
ship. At 9 o'clock on Saturday morning, 
notwithstanding a short delay for the tide 
at the bar at the mouth of the Mersey, the 
steamer was brought alongside the landing- 
stage and her passengers quickly passed 

[43] 



ROBERGI A 

ashore. At 11 o'clock the special for Lon- 
don left the Riverside station of the North- 
western Railway, and at 3 P.M., with a 
triumphant shriek, the engine pulled into 
Euston station, completing the journey of 
3,500 miles begun, almost to a minute, just 
seven days before. At the Hotel Metro- 
pole our travelers found their suite of rooms 
awaiting them as ordered by cable ten days 
before. 

At precisely 8 o'clock a knock at the 
door of our travelers' apartments is followed 
by the handing in of the card of a genealo- 
gist employed a month before, who will be 
known to us as Miss W., for it is a common 
fact that ladies are among the most success- 
ful of the class engaged in untangling from 
the records of the past those interesting, 
but long-forgotten facts, which make real 
men and women of those who have lived 
and worked and suffered that we in turn 
may take up the never-ending task to which 
mysterious fate has assigned the human 
race. 

[44] 



ROBERGI A 

Upon being shown to our travelers' apart- 
ments Miss W., after introduction to Mrs. 
Cook, began her story thus : 

"When first I read your letter and such 
data as you could give me, I despaired of 
doing much for you. The fact that Richard 
Borden, in his will, made in America subse- 
quent to 1633, mentioned that he had cer- 
tain tenements in Kent which he had from 
his father, gave, of course, a clue, but the 
destruction of records brought about by 
the constantly recurring struggles between 
the rival houses of York and Lancaster, 
and afterwards by the Civil War between 
Charles I and his Parliament, has made 
almost hopeless any recourse to parish 
registers, etc. There was, however, one 
hope. This lay in the Canterbury wills. 
Here, and particularly if the families sought 
were attached to the Church, might be found 
what we were looking for. Fortune favored 
us and I have traced, through an unbroken 
series of wills, Richard Borden's ancestors 
for eight generations to Henry Borden or 

[45] 



ROB ERGI A 

Burden, of Hedcorn, who was born in the 
year 1370. Now this is extraordinary and 
ought to satisfy any one who, starting out 
in America in the year of our Lord 1900, 
seeks to discover from whom he is de- 
scended of those who lived in England in 
the days when few could read and fewer 
still could even write a record by which 
alone a remembrance could be conveyed to 
later generations. But that Mrs. Cook here 
is the sixteenth generation from Henry 
Borden — variously spelled Bourdon, Bur- 
den and Borden, of Hedcorn, County Kent, 
England — who was born A.D. 1370, is abso- 
lutely certain, and I could prove it in any 
Court of Chancery in England. This, how- 
ever, is not what I wanted to see you about 
personally, and I must say that in all the 
investigations with which I have been 
charged, there has never been one which 
has reached the stage to which this has 
come. In fact, it has got where, being a 
woman, I cannot successfully handle it fur- 
ther. Not that 1 mean," she quickly added, 

[46] 




ANCIENT FONT, 

CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND ST. PAUL, 

HEADCORN, KENT. 

| Sec Note 11.1 



ROBERGI A 

"that I intend to drop it. On the contrary, 
I am intensely interested, and I am here 
to-night largely that I may urge upon you 
the wisdom, and even the imperative ne- 
cessity, that you do not allow this investiga- 
tion to cease where I must needs stop in its 
active prosecution." 

As Miss W. ceased talking to take breath 
her auditors noticed her agitation. Begging 
her to proceed, she continued : 

" I must apologize for what must appear 
singular to you in my manner and words ; 
but indeed I cannot help them, and the 
excuse I shall give you, which is the only 
one I can offer, may not seem sufficient; 
but such as it is, I will now present it. 
When I examined the old wills of the Can- 
terbury Collection, I remember taking an 
interest in the recurrence of certain peculiar 
family names. We genealogists, you know, 
consider the duplication of names a pretty 
sure indication of relationship. In the 
case of Mrs. Cook's ancestry, however, 
the continuity does not depend upon any 

[47] 



ROBERGI A 

such clues. The transfer of property by 
duly authenticated wills establishes each 
generation in its proper order and place 
beyond the possibility of question. In the 
will which brought Henry Borden of Hed- 
corn into the line, there is mentioned the 
bequest of 'certain lands which I hold at 
Borden.' This will was in the second vol- 
ume of the Canterbury Wills and conse- 
quently almost at the beginning of those 
thus transcribed. Of course I went to 
Borden. The Vicar and a Miss M., who 
took considerable interest in the matter, 
were both kind and obliging. The old 
registers were freely opened to my inspec- 
tion, but I already knew much more than 
they could tell me. These records prior 
to the sixteenth century had either been lost 
or were illegible, and but few Bordens were 
entered either for baptism, marriage or 
death, and none at all after the year 1600. 
I gave up the search in despair and con- 
cluded that you would be satisfied with what 
I already had, as indeed you well might, 

[48] 



ROBERGI A 

since not a client I have ever had has had 
better fortune. 

"It being too late to drive to Sitting- 
bourne in time to take a train for London, 
the Vicar kindly asked me to remain over 
night at the Vicarage, and I thankfully ac- 
cepted his invitation, as also his permission 
to inspect the old church, to the tower-door 
of which he gave me the key. There could 
be no doubt of the antiquity of the building. 
The tower was undoubtedly of the twelfth 
or thirteenth century. The choir was quite 
as old. The nave might be a century later. 
Therefore the building tallied with the tra- 
dition which you mentioned to me that Sir 
Simon de Bourdon founded it in the reign 
of King Stephen. But we genealogists 
never put too much faith in so-called tradi- 
tions. They are often invented by later 
generations, and then, of course, are made 
to fit already ascertained conditions. 

" After completing my examination of the 
building I sat down in one of the pews and 
took out my manuscript, intending to cor- 

[49] 



ROBERGI A 

rect it so that it would be ready for the mail 
which would leave London the next after- 
noon for the United States. I had no sooner 
begun to read than I was sensible of a queer 
sensation. I cannot describe it to you. I 
am not in the least superstitious, but such 
a feeling I had never felt before. It passed 
away in a few minutes, when suddenly I felt 
the same thing again, and this time more 
intensely. I was frightened, and yet not in 
the ordinary sense. There was no impres- 
sion that the locality, or the building, or 
anything in or about them, threatened me 
with harm. Quite the contrary. I was en- 
tirely satisfied to be just where I was, but 
something seemed to have possession of 
me. I can imagine that hypnotism is thus 
exercised, and that the person hypnotized 
feels exactly as I felt. Again the feeling 
passed away. Again I resumed my reading. 
Again and suddenly I shook with emotion ; 
my manuscript almost fell from my hands 
and I started up, this time thoroughly 
alarmed. As I have already said, I am not 

[50] 



REPRODUCTIONS OF ENTRIES IN THE REGISTER 

OF THE CHURCH OF ST. PETER AND 

ST. PAUL, HEADCORN, KENT. 






Richard son Matthew Borden, baptized Feb. 22, 1595.' 



IC2.S 

cm««h <£h**„ c^y.^ ffaa ,.._^ &: 



Richard Borden and Joan Fowle, married Septb. 28, 1625. 






' Richard sonne of Richard Borden, ban. July 9, 1626." 






Thomas sonne of Richard Borden, bap. October 23, 1627.' 



ROBERGI A 

at all nervous. Contrary to English cus- 
toms, I use no stimulants of any kind, even 
avoiding tea— ^the national beverage. It so 
happened that I had just finished a page as 
the feeling had come over me, and when in 
a few moments I had sufficiently regained 
my composure to gather up my papers, I 
noticed the last word, the reading of which 
had been coincident with the attack which 
had so alarmed me. This word was * Ro- 
bergia.' I then remembered that it was the 
same word which had been before my eyes 
and in my mind when the other attacks had 
startled me, but in less degree. You will 
recall that ' Robergia ' is a name much used 
by the earlier Bordens as a surname for the 
daughters of the family. Early in the in- 
vestigation I was much impressed by the 
constant recurrence of the name and I was 
satisfied that this use indicated the promi- 
nence of its first owner in the annals of the 
family. 

"As I sat in the old church, where per- 
chance this first lady Robergia might often 

[51] 



ROBERGI A 

have worshipped, my thoughts almost with- 
out effort spanned the centuries, and in my 
mind's eye I saw, amid the gathering gloom 
of the fast-fading day, the old altar again 
surrounded by the officiating priest and his 
acolytes, while the deepening shadows 
cast by the tracery of the windows, and by 
many a corbel, capital and column, peopled 
the pews with beings as weird and unsub- 
stantial as my thoughts. And as I mused 
the sun at last went down and left the 
church in darkness. Still I lingered, and 
perhaps for half an hour fancy after fancy 
chased each other across my mind, as 
knight and lady, priest and suppliant, lord 
and peasant came and went in a curious 
medley of half real, half unsubstantial pic- 
tures of men and women and things and 
actions of the long ago. At last I arose, 
intending to return to the vicarage. I had 
been seated in one of the pews of the nave 
facing the altar. The door of exit was in 
the tower, and, of course, at the west end 
of the church. Walking carefully, for it 

[52] 



ROBERGI A 

was quite dark, I opened the door of the 
pew and stepped into the aisle. Taking a 
last look at the altar, where a faint glimmer 
of light came through the old glass of the 
windows in the east wall, I turned towards 
the tower, intending to leave the building, 
when I was again sensible of the weird and 
unearthly feeling which had already come 
over me three times before on that after- 
noon, and as I looked towards the door of 
exit, a ghostly light flickered for a moment 
across my sight, went out and then re- 
appeared, and again went out. I clutched 
the nearest pew for support, or I should 
have fallen, so startled was I. 

"As I have already told you, I am neither 
a nervous woman nor a foolish girl. 
What happened there occurred as I tell it 
to you, strange as it may seem. I soon 
recovered, and my first thought was to 
escape from the place as soon as possible. 
But we are all creatures of habit, and my 
second thought, true to my daily routine of 
investigation, was to discover, if possible, 

[53] 



ROBERGI A 

what this light was and what it meant. I 
waited for it to reappear, walking slowly 
towards the place where I had seen it, 
which, as well as I could judge in the dark- 
ness, was somewhere on the west wall of 
the tower. I had almost reached the west- 
ern end of the building, my eyes fixed on 
the spot where I expected to see the light, 
and my steps carefully guided by the sense 
of feeling in my hand, which followed the 
line of pews, when suddenly the apparition 
again appeared, shone brightly on the west 
wall of the tower for perhaps the space of 
thirty seconds, flickered for a moment and 
then went out, and although I waited for 
fully half an hour, it did not again appear. 
As I opened the tower door, both gladly 
and regretfully, for a strange fascination 
held me to the place, while a fear which I 
both acknowledged and protested against 
urged me to leave, a gust of wind almost 
tore it out of my grasp, and great drops of 
rain, the precursor of a storm which raged 
all night, drove into my face. I hurriedly 

[54] 



ROBERGI A 

closed and locked the door and hastened 
to the house, which I reached after a slight 
wetting, for it was near at hand, to be most 
hospitably received by the vicar and his 
wife. They commented on the length of 
my stay in the old church, which I explained 
by my devotion to the antique both in build- 
ings and story, for I deemed it unwise to 
say anything to them of the fancy which had 
possessed me, and which had grown out of 
the happenings of that afternoon. I cannot 
explain this feeling of reticence better than 
by saying that I felt as if they were merely 
a modern accident in their connection with 
the old church, and that its true owners 
were those who, like your wife, can trace 
their descent back to its founders. That 
the church was i built by a Borden I firmly 
believe, although as yet I cannot prove it; 
but I am convinced the proof can be 
secured, and what is as yet only an instinct 
assures me that this evidence is somewhere 
about the building itself. A curious com- 
bination of circumstances leads me to this 

[55] 



ROBERGI A 

conclusion, and if you will listen for a few 
moments longer I think you will agree with 
me. Let me briefly recapitulate the cir- 
cumstances : 

"First. Mr. Cook, of Philadelphia, re- 
quests me, a professional genealogist, resid- 
ing in London, to investigate the ancestry 
of one Richard Borden, who sailed from 
England for America in the year 1633. 

"Second. I take up the work, fix my 
fee and begin an investigation in a perfectly 
cold-blooded way. In the usual course of 
my business I look over a great mass of 
papers, and am unusually successful and 
proportionately elated and gratified because 
of the pleasure I shall have in advising my 
clients of my discoveries. Business only, 
however, has thus far marked my acts and 
influenced my feelings, when I reach stage: 

"Third. And finding in one of the old 
wills mention of 'Borden,' a town of Kent, 
I take a run down there to see whether there 
may not be some further clue or addition 
to my already most satisfactory discoveries, 

[56] 



ROBERGI A 

and enter into an entirely different relation 
to the matter. From a cool-headed and 
judicially-minded investigator, I suddenly 
become an ardent partisan. From the 
earthly, I turn to the unearthly. No longer 
do records and registers, deeds and wills 
influence me. I am possessed by some- 
thing, and I cannot tell what. The Lady 
Robergia lived, and it is the Lady Robergia 
I must find. It is not I, nor you, that has 
so determined, for I believe it is the Lady 
Robergia herself who wills it. 

"And now, Mr. Cook," said Miss W., 
"if you will take some risk I believe I have 
the clue, and this clue I will give to no one 
other than yourself and your wife, and 
only to you if you will consent to act on it. 
And now that you have heard my story 
what is your answer?" Miss W. paused 
and looked at her auditors. 

After a few minutes' thought Mr. Cook 
spoke. "I have," said he, "been much 
interested in your story. Already pre- 
pared, because of my own experience, to 

[57] 



ROBERGI A 

sympathize with your feelings, it requires 
but little explanation to enable me to under- 
stand the conclusions you have reached and 
the causes which have led up to them. The 
introduction of the supernatural, or at least 
that which is closely akin to the super- 
natural, does not seem to me so strange as 
you may have supposed I would think it. 
I am a man of business, and engaged in 
pursuits and the accomplishment of pur- 
poses far removed from either the romantic 
or the imaginative, and yet I have myself 
experienced a singular interest, not to use 
a stronger phrase, in the Lady Robergia, 
who must have been the first of the Borden 
line of that name. My wife states that the 
same curious and peculiar feeling has been 
manifest in her emotions. There are, there- 
fore, three persons interested in this investi- 
gation who are entirely in sympathy with 
its purposes and peculiar developments. 
But when you suggest the taking of a risk, 
I must, in ordinary prudence, decline to 
commit myself until I know exactly what 

[58] 



ROBERGI A 

the extent of the risk is, and I cannot pledge 
myself nor my support to any scheme in 
advance of its complete disclosure. Much 
as I desire to hear your story to its close, I 
must decline to go further unless I reserve 
complete liberty of action to myself after 
full information." 

Miss W. hesitated a moment before re- 
plying. At last she said: "I know your 
requirements are reasonable. At the same 
time I feel that I am pledged, in some un- 
accountable way, to the fulfilment of a pur- 
pose. Ever since that night at Borden I 
know that a mysterious message has been 
delivered to me. Its commands I must 
obey. If you will not do what is needed 
I must seek some one else, and this some 
one must be, as you are, a descendant of 
the Bordens of Borden. To no one else 
can my message be delivered, and no one 
else shall do the work. If, then, I tell you 
what I have discovered, will you at least 
promise that if you do not carry the matter 
through you will not disclose what 1 have 

[59] 



ROBERGI A 

told you, nor in any way interfere with the 
purpose I have in view?" 

"To the making of that promise I have 
no objection," said Mr. Cook. "I will not 
disclose what you are about to tell me, and 
I will not interfere with your plans if I do 
not myself decide to carry them out. Is 
not that your decision also?" he continued, 
turning to his wife. 

"It is," said Mrs. Cook; "but I hope 
you may be able to do what Miss W. 
wishes. I am sure I will help if I can." 

"Very well," said Miss W. "With this 
understanding I will proceed," and taking a 
roll of manuscript from a small hand-bag 
which she had brought with her, she se- 
lected a paper on which was roughly drawn 
what appeared to be the ground plan of a 
church, the most prominent feature being 
the outline of a square tower of consider- 
able size relatively to the proportions of the 
structure. Spreading this paper on the 
table, she began : 

"You will recollect that after leaving the 

[60] 



ROBERGI A 

church at Borden on the evening of my 
singular experience, which night is now just 
four weeks ago, I remained at the vicarage 
over night, and returned to London the 
next morning. You will not be surprised 
when I tell you that I slept but little. While 
lying awake, I went over the whole of the 
day's occurrences most carefully. Do what 
I would, I could not reason them away. 
There was only the continued iteration and 
reiteration so familiar to those with whom 
the hours that should be devoted to sleep 
become the theater of wakefulness. I went 
over and over my experience, as I have 
already said, and only to more thoroughly 
believe in the reality and significance of 
everything that had happened. At last my 
conclusions were made up, and a plan took 
definite shape in my mind. Curious to 
relate, no sooner had this result been 
reached than I fell asleep, and did not 
awaken until the sun, shining through the 
curtains, announced the new-born day. This 
day was Sunday, and there was but one 

[61] 



ROBERGI A 

train I could take. Leaving Borden at 
10 o'clock by carriage, I could catch an up 
train at Sittingbourne, reaching London at 
1 o'clock. Of course, my original inten- 
tion of mailing my letter to you on Satur- 
day afternoon, so as to catch the steamer at 
Queenstown, was no longer a possibility. 
But that by which I had been prevented was 
by far more important in its promised de- 
velopments. Dressing hurriedly, I reached 
the dining-room justas breakfast was served, 
and after partaking of the meal, of which I 
must confess I ate but little, I again asked 
permission to look at the church, to which 
request the vicar smilingly assented, mak- 
ing some casual remark upon the attractions 
it seemed to have for me. 

" I was soon again in the building, and 
went directly to the tower. I had no time to 
lose, for service would commence at 10.30 
o'clock, and it was now past 9, and I had 
much to do. Taking my bearings, as nearly 
as I could, I located the spot on the west 
wall where I had seen the light the night 

[62] 



ROBERGI A 

before, and began a close examination of 
its surface. The stones were of irregular 
length, but of the same width, making 
regular courses all around the inside tower 
wall. There was nothing visible on the 
first stone which I selected, and its neigh- 
bors on either side were equally barren 
of results ; so was the stone immediately 
above it. I was much disappointed; and 
going back to my original position of the 
night before, I again recalled the circum- 
stances, and tried again to locate the light. 
This time I noticed, from where I stood, 
a peculiarity in the stones. While they 
varied in length, they were approximately 
the same in other particulars. But on the 
second course from the floor I now noticed 
one stone that was at least twice as long 
as any of its neighbors, and this stone 
was directly under that which I had at 
first thought to be the one touched by 
the ghostly light which had startled me. 
As quickly as I could I reached this spot, 
which I have marked here" — pointing to 

[63] 



ROBERGI A 

the plan — "and began a critical examination 
of the surface of the stone, and was soon 
rewarded by the discovery of a Latin cross 
cut into its face, but almost obliterated by 
the wear and abrasions of what I judged 
were the 700 years which had passed since 
it was carved. After what had happened 
I could not doubt the significance of this 
discovery ; but how should I interpret its 
meaning? 

"Acting quickly, for I felt that intuition 
or inspiration was now a better guide than 
reason, I followed my first impulse, which 
was to examine the floor directly under the 
stone. This floor was also of stone, and I 
soon saw that, while it had been renewed 
in places, the original work had remained 
undisturbed along the side of the tower 
which I was examining. This was partly 
owing to the fact that the position of the 
door of entrance was such as to divert 
the course of travel away from this side of 
the tower, and partly because, as I was de- 
lighted to find, the particular stone in which 

[64] 



ROBERGI A 

I was interested, and which you will see I 
have also marked on the plan, had been 
built into the wall, and was much larger 
than any of its fellows. Examining it more 
closely, I discovered a marked indentation 
which extended some four inches from the 
wall and at right angles with it. It was 
then lost in a depression, undoubtedly 
caused by the friction of the feet of the 
many generations that had come and gone 
over its surface. 

" Using my penknife to remove the dirt 
in the cutting which I had found, I was 
soon warranted in the conclusion that it 
might have formed the shaft of an arrow 
pointing directly to the opposite wall, the 
head of which had been ground down 
and had disappeared with the creation of 
the depression I have already mentioned. 
Greatly excited, I measured the exact dis- 
tance of the cross on the large stone from 
the angle of the walls, and applying the 
same measure to the east wall of the tower 
was delighted to find there, and in the sec- 

[65] 



ROBERGI A 

ond course from the floor, a stone the exact 
counterpart of the one in the west wall on 
which the cross was cut. You will observe 
I have marked the position of this stone 
also. On its face there was an unmistak- 
able indication that it had once borne, al- 
though faintly cut, an arrow-head. The 
conclusion was unavoidable. Whoever had 
cut the cross — a common emblem marking 
the corner-stones of churches of that day, 
as it does in our time — had the further pur- 
pose in mind of directing attention to the 
stone in the opposite wall. The arrow-head 
was missing from the shaft cut in the floor, 
as you will remember. It had never been 
there. It was, instead, cut on the stone of 
the east wall, which I had discovered. Be- 
hind that stone lies whatever there is of 
value. There we will find the Lady Ro- 
bergia's history, and, I believe, her mes- 
sage also. I am not only firmly convinced 
you will discover what I suppose to be 
there, but that I am also commissioned 
to see that it reaches none but those for 

[66] 





IB 

■ 

- 


1 {pi 


I 




^■1 



ROBERGI A 

whom it was intended ; that is, her descend- 
ants. And now will you undertake to 
remove that stone and secure what I am 
sure you will find behind it? " 

"Well," said Mr. Cook, "your story is 
a remarkable one; but what you propose 
is certainly trespass, and might be construed 
into burglary, or certainly larceny if we 
take anything away. Why not try the vicar 
or church authorities, and get permission to 
remove the stone? " 

"I thought of that plan," said Miss W„ 
" and rejected it. Whatever is found would 
be claimed by the church and stuffed into 
some museum or other. You see a manu- 
script of the thirteenth century found under 
such circumstances would be of great value, 
and a curiosity beyond comparison with 
anything of the kind I know of. Besides, 
it is impossible to do as you suggest. The 
Lady Robergia's message, if it be there, is 
to her descendants only. It is not, in any 
sense, the property of those who now have 
the church in charge. Seven hundred years 

[67] 



ROBERGI A 

ago a church was built. Since then its custo- 
dians have changed in person perhaps fifty 
times, and, besides, the Church of England 
has taken it from the Church of Rome, to 
whom it was originally given. There is 
no ownership of right, and certainly none of 
sentiment, in those papers saving that which 
vests in the Bordens of to-day, of course 
taking it for granted that these are manu- 
scripts of the character which I suppose." 
"You reason the matter out pretty well," 
said Mr. Cook; "but that would not avail 
much in an English court in answer to a 
charge of trespass, or malicious mischief, or 
by whatever name the forcible entry and 
despoiling of a church might be called in 
this country. However, if the attempt is 
to be made under the conditions you affix 
it must be done without accomplices, and 
pretty much as you suggest. I will think 
the matter over. By the way," continued 
the speaker, "is the stone too large to be 
handled by one person should it be taken 
from the wall?" 

[68] 



ROBERGI A 

" Although larger than its neighbors, it is 
not too heavy, and if, as I conjecture, a 
hollow has been cut in it to receive the 
leaden box, in which the parchment manu- 
script is undoubtedly sealed there will 
be just that much taken from its weight. 
I can also tell you that the mortar holding 
it is very friable and easily removed. I 
would suppose, however, that the better 
plan would be to remove the two smaller 
stones of the course immediately above it. 
The opening which holds the box, provided 
it is there, doubtless is in the top of the 
large stone, and the removal of those stones 
would uncover that which we are looking 
for. I have been so possessed by the 
scheme which I have disclosed to you 
that I have been in Borden again since 
my original visit, and I find the whole 
town is abed by 10 o'clock, and, what is 
more, the neighborhood of the church is 
absolutely deserted after nightfall. I am 
satisfied that in thirty minutes the stones 
could be removed and the papers secured. 

[69] 



ROBERGIA 

It might take fifteen minutes more to re- 
store the wall to its original condition and 
clean up the debris. I will give you the 
address of the driver who took me to and 
from Sittingbourne. He is entirely de- 
voted to my interests because of a service 
I once did him when he was wrongfully 
accused of a theft from a passenger while 
he was a cab-driver in London. And now, 
recalling your pledge to me, I will say good 
night, and will call again on Tuesday even- 
ing to hear your decision. Meanwhile I 
will also leave the plan of the church with 
you." 

After Miss W. had left, Mr. Cook had 
a quiet discussion of her proposition, partly 
with Mrs. Cook and partly with himself. 
The wife dissuaded, at first strongly, but 
finally only half-heartedly, and at the end 
actually suggested that the matter be looked 
into. Queer to say, Mr. Cook got into the 
same state of mind, and whatever the influ- 
ences which possessed them, here were two 
sensible and respectable people actually 

[70] 



ROBERGI A 

contemplating the commission of an act 
which it would be hard to excuse in the eye 
of the law, however plausible the explana- 
tion along the lines laid down by Miss W. 
As Sunday followed the interview we 
have noted at such length, of course noth- 
ing could be done, but on Monday action 
was taken. Just what it was I may not 
say, but early on Tuesday morning a leaden 
box, cylindrical in shape and about six 
inches long and four inches in diameter, 
lay on a table in a room on the second floor 
of the Hotel Metropole, in London. A 
gentleman and a lady were contemplating 
it with great curiosity. It was apparently 
seamless, having been hammered together. 
On what appeared to be intended as the 
top was a coat-of-arms — the crest a lion 
rampant, holding a battle-axe, and the shield 
bearing a device which in all respects 
corresponded with the traditional Borden 
arms except in one quartering, and doubt- 
less this was the quartering of the Lady 
Robergia's family, for neither of the ob- 

[71] 



ROBERGI A 

servers had now any doubt as to who was 
the original owner of the box and the author 
of its contents. Curiosity as to that which 
it contained was unbounded, but it was de- 
cided to postpone the opening until Miss 
W. should arrive. Promptly at 8 o'clock 
the lady in question sent up her card, and 
her surprise can be imagined when she 
found the box already in the possession of 
those to whom she had given the time which 
had elapsed merely for the consideration of 
her proposal, not for an instant supposing 
the enterprise would be so speedily under- 
taken. 

It was with something akin to awe that 
the ladies waited while Mr. Cook produced 
a small saw which he had procured that 
morning at a shop in the Strand, and began 
to carefully cut into the leaden cylinder 
along a line drawn around it at its largest 
diameter and at a point about one-fourth 
from its top. That the cover had been put 
on at this point was clearly evident from 
marks which were still visible. The lead 

[72] 



ROBERGIA 

was soft, and it did not take long to pene- 
trate the outer shell, which was, however, 
fully three-eighths of an inch thick. Care- 
fully working the saw while the ladies held 
the box, this cut was continued about two- 
thirds of the distance around, when Mr. 
Cook suddenly stopped his work — so sud- 
denly, indeed, that the ladies let go of the 
box, and one of them (which one I shall not 
tell) gave a little shriek. The box itself would 
have fallen to the floor had not the gentleman 
caught it by a quick movement. That all 
of the party were greatly excited was evi- 
dent, and even Mr. Cook had to wait a few 
moments before he regained his compo- 
sure. 

"We are about," said he at last, "to un- 
cover that which has remained secluded 
from the world for probably all of seven 
centuries ; for, unless every indication is at 
fault, this box and whatever it contains have 
lain in the east wall of the tower of the 
parish church of Borden since the begin- 
ning of the thirteenth century. The style 

[73] 



ROBERGI A 

of architecture of the church, the condition 
of the wall and of the box itself prove this 
conclusively ; but should there be a manu- 
script inside this ancient casket we shall 
have no need for conjecture, for it will 
speak for itself. It is, however, with the 
most peculiar feelings that I find myself 
face to face with the next and necessary 
step. Whether it was by man or woman, 
or for good or ill that this singular legacy 
was left to posterity, the thought is awe- 
inspiring that we are about to look upon 
something which last saw the light and was 
last an object of interest to and of actual 
contact with living beings like ourselves 
700 years ago. I do not know what this 
casket may contain ; but whoever placed it 
in that wall was gathered to his fathers 
and his dust mingled with that of our 
common mother hundreds of years before 
the new world was discovered, and when 
the language of Chaucer, of Spenser and of 
Shakespeare was as yet unformed. The 
circumstances which have led up to its dis- 

[74] 



ROBERGIA 

covery also add to the sentiments which it 
inspires. It is, therefore, with a feeling of 
profound reverence that I shall bend back 
the cover of this leaden shell and disclose 
the secret which has been entrusted to its 
keeping bv this knight or lady, this priest 
or penitent of the long ago. Whoever it 
may have been, may God grant to him or 
to her, and to us as well, a merciful judg- 
ment in the world to come, and such knowl- 
edge of our duty in this world as may lead 
to its reasonable and faithful discharge." 
Carefully and with reverent hands the 
lead was bent back along the line of the 
cutting which had been made. Equally 
fearful of finding the shell empty or occu- 
pied—for if there was nothing, what a dis- 
appointment! and if there was a manuscript 
what should its purport be?-the three ob- 
servers looked into the little box, the in- 
terior of which was now visible. It took 
but a glance to show that it was not empty, 
for a cylinder of yellow cloth lay coiled 
within the leaden receptacle, nearly filling 

[75] 



ROBERGIA 

it. With great difficulty, and after much 
care, this roll was removed to the hard, 
smooth surface of the mahogany table. The 
outside wrappings had evidently been of 
well-oiled linen. How many there were 
of these wrappings our intensely interested 
examiners could not tell, for the cloth, 
emitting a peculiar odor, fell to pieces 
wherever touched, so that soon there was 
nothing left of the outside wrappings but 
a pile of yellow dust, with some shreds of 
fiber. The inside roll, or contents, how- 
ever, seemed more substantial, and appeared 
to be covered with a substance like clay. 
Upon carefully applying the blade of a 
knife, this also dissolved into dust, and was 
with ease removed. That it had originally 
been wax was discovered afterwards. Every 
one was intent upon the inside roll, which, 
now that it was completely uncovered, could 
plainly be seen to be parchment. 

Miss W., until now no more excited 
than the rest of the party, and who had not 
said a word since the lid of the box had 

[76] 



ROBERGI A 

been bent back, exclaimed excitedly: "I 
knew it ! I knew it ! A manuscript on parch- 
ment ! But be careful. Have you writing 
materials? " and then speaking to Mr. Cook, 
"ring quickly for pen, ink and paper, and 
give me the box." 

Taking the box, she placed it carefully 
over the parchment roll, covering it, 
as it lay on the table, with her woolen 
wrap, which I noticed she selected from 
among other articles in the room capable 
of the same use, because it had been hang 
ing before the fire burning in the grate, and 
was therefore free from any suspicion 
of dampness. It took but a few minutes 
to give the order for writing materials and 
to receive them ; but during those few 
minutes I thought Miss W. would go out 
of her mind. She tramped up and down 
the room, opened the door a half-dozen 
times, and once actually ran some fifty feet 
down the corridor, all the time exclaiming: 
"How foolish that we were not prepared! 
Why, oh why does he not come with the 

[77] 



ROBERG I A 

paper and ink?" So thatwhen the waiter did 
return the whole party was in a condition of 
mind bordering on frenzy. 

"Now," said Miss W., "we will know 
whether all our labor has been for nought, 
or whether the dead of the days of the 
Crusades will be allowed, through our 
efforts, to deliver the message which has 
been left for those who should come after 
them, even to the twentieth generation." 

Taking off the covers, which it was plain 
had been put over the roll to keep the air 
from it, Miss W. began to unwind the 
parchment. "Write," she said to Mr. 
Cook, who had established himself at the 
other side of the table, while Mrs. Cook 
stood looking over Miss W.'s shoulder. 
" Fortune favors us," she continued. " This 
is in the bastard Latin of the twelfth cen- 
tury, but it is well done and I know the 
characters. Write quickly," she said, "and 
do not lose any time." 

And this is what she read as she care- 
fully unrolled the old manuscript, and this 

[78] 



ROBERGI A 

is what the gentleman wrote on that night 
in the beginning of August, in room 112, 
on the first floor of the Hotel Metropole, 
which is in Northumberland Avenue, Lon- 
don : 

The Manuscript Found in the East 
Wall of the Parish Church at 
Borden, Kent, England. 

Translated by Miss W., of London. 

It is by the grace of God alone that I am 
what I am, and through the merits of His 
dear Son, my Lord and Master, can I 
alone hope for life hereafter and forgiveness 
for my many sins. His blessings and gifts 
to me have been many and far beyond my 
deserving. That it may be accounted 
worthy in His sight that I have purposed 
the building of a church to His honor and 
for the services of His true and only 
religion, is my humble prayer, and that He 
may vouchsafe the accomplishment of my 
purpose is my most comfortable hope. 
And I also pray that He may bless my 

[79] 



ROBERGI A 

further purpose with His favor and to the 
good of those who may come after me. 
My two boys, which the Lord has given 
me, are always in my thoughts. Simon, 
weak and sickly, may not see man's estate. 
Richard, like the great king from whom 
he took his name, will be a man of iron — 
strong in war ; but God and our lady grant 
that he shall be wise and peaceful also, for 
war brings sorrow and suffering, as the 
women of England and of my line know 
full well. It is from him that the Borden 
line shall proceed, and it is to his descend- 
ants, in what age and what land I know 
not, that I must deliver this message. 

It is now 154 years since Count William 
of Normandy defeated and killed the great 
Harold, King of England, on the woeful 
day of Hastings. There fell also Ethel- 
wolf, my Saxon ancestor, my dear mother's 
grandfather and the lord of all the lands 
which the Norman Conqueror gave to his 
vassal, Francis de Bourdon, whose grand- 
son, Sir Simon de Bourdon, in the strange 

[80] 



ROBERGI A 

chances of life and war, became my father. 
In the veins of my children — Simon, who 
will die, as the leech sayeth, and Richard, 
who will live — is therefore the mingled 
blood of Norman and of Saxon. I love my 
children, and may not I, the Lady Robergia, 
the daughter of Elfrida of Kent and of Sir 
Simon de Bourdon of Bourdon, and the 
wife of Sir Francis de Bourdon, erstwhile 
by marriage with me, lord of all the lands 
of Bourdon, love those who may come after 
me, and take account of their welfare and 
leave to them the message which my sor- 
rows have taught me, and which love for 
my children's children leads me to give 
them? 

The land of England is indeed in travail. 
The hand of the Norman is everywhere 
raised against the Saxon, and the Saxon 
stands ready to avenge the wrongs done his 
forefathers. It is war and not peace; in- 
justice and not righteousness ; pride and not 
humble desire to fulfil the laws of God and 
of religion that I everywhere see. The 

[81] 



ROBERGI A 

Saxon tills the soil ; the Norman robs him 
of his rights and of the fruits of his labors. 
The Norman cannot yield ; the Saxon will 
not ; and yet if the dear England which I 
love is ever to be at peace at home and 
great abroad, these two must come together. 
It was but last month that my husband had 
the thumb cut off the right hand of one of 
my Saxon serfs because he had killed a 
stag in the forest, vowing that he should 
never draw arrow in long bow again. And 
yesterday a shaft was brought me, which 
was found quivering in an oak just beyond 
the moat, and which old Ursula tells me 
had grazed the cap of my son who was 
walking there with her. And Gurth, the 
son of him who was so cruelly mutilated by 
my husband, I doubt not shot the arrow, 
for they say he left last night to join Robin 
Hood in the great Sherwood Forest. And 
so those who should live together and who, 
once together, would make England great, 
do nought but harm to each other — the 
Norman proud, hasty and unjust; the 

[82] 



ROBERGI A 

Saxon stolid, revengeful and unwilling to 
forget. 

And yet in all my sorrows and anxieties 
it has been given me to see a future for 
England out of which a greatness shall 
grow, not less because of her power than 
because of her righteousness, and it is upon 
the descendants of my son, Richard de 
Bourdon, who is fourth in the line from Sir 
Francis de Bourdon, who was himself de- 
scended from the de Bourdons of Bayeux, 
in Normandy, that I charge this duty, out 
of which alone can good come now or here- 
after, that they be true, just and merciful. 
And upon whomsoever shall find this parch- 
ment, written by myself — for with great 
labor hath my confessor, the good Monk 
Athelstan, taught me the mysteries of 
chirography and the art of illumination — I 
charge that they deliver it to the descend- 
ants of my son, Richard de Bourdon, of 
Bourdon, and that in their day and genera- 
tion they shall remember to serve God and 
His dear Son, and be 

[83] 



ROBERGI A 

True — to friendship and to God, for 
Truth is all of this life worth the having, 
and perfect Truth is what the Life to come 
shall reveal to us. It is the Prince of Dark- 
ness that is the Prince of Lies. 

Be just — for the Lord has only loaned 
us that which we have, whether of goods or 
of talents, and in their use we must con- 
sider the rights of all men. 

Be merciful — for we shall have no 
greater claim to the mercy we all shall finally 
need than that we forgave our brother's 
faults. 

And this hath the Lady Robergia de 
Bourdon herself written in the year of our 
Lord 1210. 

The reading came to an end, and with it 
the scratching of pen on paper ceased. The 
clock on the mantelpiece, almost at the in- 
stant, struck midnight; but there was no 
other sound. For fully five minutes no one 
spoke ; and then Miss W., turning over the 
parchment sheet, said sorrowfully, "It is as 

[84] 




K 

O 

u 

Q 
< 
W 

X 

a <-? 
o - 

2 I 

DC 



ROBERGI A 

I feared;" and as Mr. and Mrs. Cook 
looked, they saw that the letters at the be- 
ginning of the manuscript had almost dis- 
appeared, while those last uncovered in the 
unwinding were also fast fading away. 

"This is why I was in such haste to 
secure paper and ink," said Miss W. 
"There was, at the time this was written, 
an ink which could be used and which was 
permanent so long as the air did not reach 
it. Upon exposure it almost immediately 
lost color. The Lady Robergia evidently 
feared this paper might be construed 
as treasonable to the Norman conquerors 
if found during her lifetime. In such case 
the fading of the writing would have made 
it useless as testimony against her to the 
possible confiscation of her estate. As to 
posterity, she evidently decided to take 
chances. Fortunately, we have a correct 
transcription, and you now have an authen- 
tic account of the de Bourdons from the 
time of their leaving Normandy. I need 
not say that it is the most extraordinary 

[85] 



ROBERGI A 

affair with which I have ever been con- 
nected, and I at last feel absolved from the 
task which I certainly at the time felt had 
been put upon me by ghostly influence. 
But tell me," she continued, "how did you 
get the box? " 

"I think," said Mr. Cook, "that I said 
I could not tell you, and I must leave you 
to draw your own conclusions. I may tell 
you, however," he said, "that someone was 
in Borden last night, and was greatly 
surprised to see the same light on the west 
wall which so startled you. It was, how- 
ever, a ray of moonlight admitted through 
one of the lancet windows cut in the east 
wall of the tower. You will recall that the 
moon was almost exactly in the same posi- 
tion yesterday as on the night you were 
there, that being about four weeks or, to 
be accurate, twenty-nine days ago. The 
flickering you noticed was doubtless caused 
by the movements of the limbs of a tree 
which stands in the churchyard a short dis- 
tance from the tower, and which was moved 

[86] 



ROBERGI A 

by the wind accompanying the storm, which 
afterwards obscured the moon entirely and 
left you and the church in darkness." 

"Nevertheless," said Miss W., "there 
was a Lady Robergia, and yourself and 
Mrs. Cook are her descendants." 

THE END. 



87| 



Addenda 



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PEDIGREE OF 

BORDEN OF BORDEN AND HEDCORN 

County of Kent. 



Compiled from Researches made and Records Copied at 
the Instance of RICHARD Y. COOK, of 
Philadelphia, Pa., U. S. A. 



PEDIGREE OF RICHARD BORDEN, 

Who removed from the Parish of Hedcorn in the County 

of Kent, England, to Portsmouth, Rhode 

Island, America. 

I. HENRY BORDEN, of the Parish of 
Hedcorn, County of Kent, born about the year 
1370-1380. 

He appears to have held land both in Hedcorn 
and at Borden, and was doubtless a descendant 
of the Bordens, of Borden. He is mentioned 
in the will of his grandson, John Borden, of 
Hedcorn, which will is dated 26 April, 1469, 
recorded in the Archdeaconry of Canterbury, 
Vol. II, folio 1, wherein his grandson, the said 
John Borden, of Hedcorn, desires that a priest 
sing in the Church of Hedcorn for his (the said 

[91] 



ADDENDA 

Henry Borden's) soul, and the soul of Robergia, 
wife of the said Henry Borden, for two years. 

Henry Borden, of Hedcorn, had issue by the 
said Robergia his wife : 

II. THOMAS BORDEN, of the Parish of 
Hedcorn, County of Kent. He is mentioned 
in the will of his son, John Borden, of Hedcorn, 
who desires that a priest sing in the Church of 
Hedcorn, wherein he was buried, for his soul, 
and that of his wife, Isabella. 

The Bordens acquired their land in Hedcorn 
after 38 Hen. III. (See Extent of Hedcorn.) 
Note that William Borden, died 1531, still held 
land at Borden. 

This Thomas Borden was without question 
identical with Thomas Borden (or Burden), of 
Hedcorn, who joined the Rebellion of the Ken- 
tishmen under Jack Cade in the year 1450, and 
who was subsequently pardoned therefor. (Pat. 
Rolls, 28 Hen. VI, parts 2, 13, etc. Also 
Archasologia Cantiana, Vol. VII.) 

This Thomas Borden died before 26 April, 
1469, leaving issue by Isabella, his wife : 

1. John; of whom presently. 

2. Henry. 

3. Richard. 

[92] 



ADDENDA 

III. JOHN BORDEN, of the Parish of 
Hedcorn, in the County of Kent. His will is 
dated 26 April, 1469, but there is no date of 
probate. 

Will of John Borden, of Hedcorn, County 
of Kent. 

26 April, 1469.— I, John Borden, of Hed- 
corn. 

To be buried in the cemetery of the Church 
of St. Peter & St. Paul in Hedcorn. 

To each of my grandchildren (not named) 
4d. The rest of my goods to Thomas Hovyn- 
den, Richard Borden & John Holstrete, Execu- 
tors. 

My wife Benett (Benedict) to have the use 
of part of my house during her widowhood. 

My Executors to occupy my lands, &c, until 
William my son attains his age of twenty. 

If my son & daughters all die, then if the said 
Richard Borden have a son he shall have all my 
lands, &c, which were of my father (not 
named), to hold the same to him and his heirs 
for ever. 

I will that an honest Priest sing in the Church 

[93] 



ADDENDA 

of Hedcorn for the souls of Thomas my father, 
Isabella my mother, Henry Borden my grand- 
father & Robergia his wife, & Thomas Saunder, 
for 2 years; he is to be paid 20 marks. (Arch. 
Cant., Vol. II, folio 1, Latin.) 

John Borden married Benett Tornor, daughter 
of Thomas Tornor. 

Will of Benett Borden, of Hedcorn, — 
Widow. 

15 October, 1518.— I, Benett Borden, 
widow. 

To be buried in the Churchyard of Hedcorn. 

To William my son, 40s. 

To Joan my daughter, 40s. 

To Isabella my daughter & her child, 6s. 8d. 

To Robergia my daughter, 6s. 8d. 

To John Borden, a calf. 

To Alice Borden, 3s. 4d. 

To Roger my son, the house, garden & 2 
pieces of land I had by inheritance after the 
death of Thomas Tornor my father. 

The rest of my goods to the said Roger, 
whom I make executor. 

Peter Wothyngbroke to be overseer. 

[94] 



ADDENDA 

Witnesses: John Cornforth, Curate, Thomas 
Batnor. 

Proved 16 Nov., 1518. (Arch. Cant., Vol. 
XIII, Section 8.) 

John Borden, of Hedcorn, had issue by Benett, 
his wife : 

1. William; of whom presently. 

2. Joan. 

3. Isabella. 

4. Robergia. 

5. John. 

6. Alice. 

7. Roger. 

IV. WILLIAM BORDEN, son of John 
and Benett his wife, of the Parish of Hedcorn, 
in the County of Kent. He was under age 26 
April, 1469; died 1531. His first wife was 
named Joan, and his second Thomasin, and they 
were both buried within the Church of Hedcorn. 
His third wife, named Rose, survived him. 

Will of William Borden, of Hedcorn. 

11 February, 1531.— I, William Borden, of 
Hedcorn. 

To be buried within the Church of Our Lady 
between my 2 wives Joan and Thomasin. 

[95] 



ADDENDA 

To Elizabeth my daughter, a standing 
"Nutte" with silver & gilt & a cover. 

To Anne my daughter, £2Q. 

Walter Hendeley, gent ; William Lynche & 
Nicholas Batnor to be Executors, & Sir Edward 
Wotten, Knight, Overseer. 

To Katherine my daughter, my messuage, 2 
gardens, a forstall, 3 pieces of land formerly 
called Southlands, & 2 pieces of land called Ryng- 
sell, purchased of Sir William Ketlesden, for- 
merly Vicar of Hedcorn ; for default of heirs to 
the said Katherine, the same to remain to my 
son Thomas & his heirs for ever. 

The feoffees to let to farm my 2 meadows 
lying to the church bridge upon the den of Cro- 
thenden the which by stryken out of a pair of 
indentures between Edward Borden & me, & 
the profits thereof to be given in deeds of charity. 

I will that Edward Borden my son hold him- 
self content with my tenement of Borden with 
100 acres of land & meadow & my tenement at 
Wike, with such lands as he holds of me by 
indenture under a "false pretence of marriage 
of Johane daughter of John Aleyn, Baron of the 
Exchequer." 

[96] 



ADDENDA 

I will that Rose my wife occupy my principal 
messuage Horcheyard Podsole, a tenement & 
piece of land called Borowfyld, she keeping 
Thomas and Anne my children. 

My feoffees to let 2 pieces of land called Ketes 
& Somerlese with all my other lands lying on the 
north side of the street leading from Hedcorn to 
Levenham, &c, &c, until my son Thomas attain 
the age of 24 years. 

To the said Thomas I give a piece of land 
containing 10 acres called Pikesfelde, "lying to 
the hall dore of his brother Edward's hall dore." 
Proved 25 Sept., 1531. (Arch. Cant., Vol. 
XIX, Section, 10.) 

Children of William Borden, of Hedcorn: 

1. Edmund; of whom presently. He is not men- 
tioned in will and was, therefore, eldest son. 
English wills of this date rarely mention the 
eldest son and heir, who inherited by entail, 

., according to Act of Parliament. The System 

of Gavel Kind was of course practiced to a 
great extent in Kent, but in this case it 
appears that the descendants of this Edmund 
Borden held the lands formerly belonging to 
William Borden, father of this Edmund, and 
to John, his grandfather. The evidence of 
descent is therefore clear and complete. 

2. Edward. 

3. Thomas. 

[97] 



ADDENDA 

4. Elizabeth. 

5. Anne. 

6. Katherine. 

V. EDMUND BORDEN, of the Parish of 
Hedcorn, in the County of Kent, son of William, 
born about the year 1485; died in the same 
Parish about the month of June, 1539. He mar- 
ried Margaret . 

Will of Edmund Borden, of Hedcorn. 

Dated 13 April, 30 Hen. 8 (1539).— "I, 
Edmund Borden, of Hedcorn, in the Shire of 
Kent." 

To be buried in the churchyard of Hedcorn. 

To my daughters Joan & Maryon, £5 each. 

To my daughters Margaret, Alice & Julian, 
,£5 each at their ages of 20 years. 

To Margaret, my wife, 3 kine, etc. 

The residue of my goods to Edward, John & 
William, my sons. 

If my wife have a "woman chylde " then I 
give to the said child £5. 

I make Thomas Madocke & John Phylyke, 
executors. 

Witnesses : John Lytle, Edward Newenden, 
Thomas Wood. 

[98] 



ADDENDA 

Proved, 18 June, 1539. (Archdeaconry of 
Canterbury, Vol. XXI, Section 9.) 

Children of Edmund 'Borden and Margaret his Wife: 



1. 


Edward. 


2. 
3. 

4. 


John. 

William; of whom presently. 

Joan. 


5. 
6. 
7. 


Maryon. 

Margaret. 

Alice. 


8. 


Julian. 



VI. WILLIAM BORDEN , son of Edmund 
and Margaret, of Hedcorn, was born in that 
Parish circa 1520(15?); died there about the 
month of June, 1557. He married Joan . 

Will of William Borden (Burden), of 
Hedcorn. 

(No date.) To Joan, my wife, £20, &c. 

To my sons, Thomas & Edward, £10 each ; 
to my son John £6, & to my son Stephen .£10. 

To Elizabeth, my daughter, £3.6.8; to my 
daughter Thomesyn a cow; to my daughter 
Anne a cow. 

To Edmond, my son, a cow. 

My wife Joan & son Edward to be Executors. 

[99] 






ADDENDA 

The residue of my goods I give to my said 
wife & sons. 

Witnesses: John Kippinge, Nicholas Borden 
& Nicholas Hammersham. 

Proved 8 June, 1557. (Archdeaconry of Cant., 
Vol. XXX, Section 3.) 

Children of William Borden and Joan his Wife: 

1. Thomas; of whom presently. 

2. Edward (Edmund) , of Hedcorn Parish, County 
of Kent. His will in abstract is as follows: 
28 January, 1559. "I, Edward Borden, of 

Hedcorn. 

"Margaret, my wife, to be executrix. 

"To Stephen Borden my brother ^"17.6.0, 
given to him by my father (not named). 

"To my mother (not named) 20s. 

"To Thomas & Edward (Edmund) Bor- 
den, my brothers, 20s. each. 

"To John Borden (no relationship given), 
20s. 

"To my sisters, Thomasin, Agnes & Eliza- 
beth, 10s. each." 

Legacies to John, Thomas & Christopher 
Batnor, & to Alice Warner. 

Witnesses: John Kyppyn, Nicholas Boodes 
& Nicholas Homersham. (See his father's 
will.) Proved 26 March, 1560. (Arch. 
Cant., Vol. XXXIV, Section 5.) 

3. John (doubtless the John Borden mentioned 
in will of Edward, his brother, but relation- 
ship not there set forth.) 

4. Edmund (Edward). 

[100] 



ADDENDA 

5. Stephen; named in will of his brothers Edward 
and Thomas Borden, but not in will of his 
father. 

6. Elizabeth; she was living 1592, and named in 
will of her brother Thomas (which see) . 

7. Agnes; named in will of her brother Edward. 

8. Thomasin ; named in will of her brother 
Edward. 

VII. THOMAS BORDEN, born in the 
Parish of Hedcorn, County Kent, circa 1540 ; 
died there about the month of April, 1592. He 
was buried in Hedcorn Church 21 April, 1592. 
His wife's name is not known, but she was buried 
in Hedcorn Church, 20 May, 1581. He appears 
to have married, 2dly, Margaret Reader (1583), 
who was buried 25 Sept., 1589. She was daugh- 
ter of the Vicar of the Church of St. Peter and 
St. Paul at Hedcorn. 

Will of Thomas Borden, of Hedcorn, 
County Kent, Yeoman. 

I, Thomas Borden, of Hedcorn, in County 
Kent, yeoman. 

To be buried in the Churchyard of Hedcorn. 

To my daughter Agnes, wife of Jonas Gor- 
ham, ;£10, &c. 

To my brother Stephen Borden, .£4. 

[101] 



ADDENDA 

To my sister Elizabeth Borden, £\.. 

The rest of my goods to my son Mathew 
Borden, whom I make Executor. 

Witnesses: John Fotherbie & Edward Meles, 
Thomas Travant. 

Proved 26 April, 1592. " The hand mark of 
Thomas Borden." (Arch. Cant., Vol. XLVIII, 
folio 279.) 

Children of Thomas Borden and his wife: 

1. Mathew; of whom presently. 

2. Thomas; buried at Hedcorn Church, 30 April, 
1580. 

3. Joan; buried at Hedcorn Church, 5 April, 
1571. 

4. Agnes; married Jonas Gorham, 2 Aug., 1585. 

VIII. MATHEW BORDEN, son of 

Thomas, born in the Parish of Hedcorn, County 
Kent. He died there about the month of Oc- 
tober, 1620. He married Joan . He was 

Churchwarden of Hedcorn, 1598. (There was 
another Mathew, Churchwarden earlier, perhaps 
an uncle.) 

Will of Mathew Borden, of Hedcorn, 
County Kent, Yeoman. 

26 September, 1620. I, Mathew Borden, 
of Hedcorn, in County Kent, Yeoman. 

[102] 



ADDENDA 

To Joane, my wife, beds, &c. ; also ,£8 yearly 
out of my farm called Sim Hamdens in the Parish 
of Smarden in Co. Kent, till my son John attain 
the age of 21 ; also the rent of my houses in 
Hedcorn ; also of my farm called Grinnett in 
Hedcorn ; also the rent of my tenement wherein 
Roger Jones dwells until my son Edward attain 
the age of 21. 

To my daughter Amye Borden, /60 at her 
age of 20. 

To my daughter Mary, wife of John Rowe, 
^16. 

To my son Richard, my 2 houses & land 
thereto belonging in Hedcorn, to hold to him 
and his heirs forever. 

To my son William, ;£40; also a house & 
land at Smarden. 

My sons Richard & William to be Executors. 

Thomas Samson, of Cranbroke, to be Super- 
visor. 

Proved 27 October, 1620. (Arch. Cant., 
Book 63 [Hall], folio 134.) 

Children of Matheiv Borden and Joan his Wife: 
1. Mary, married, 4 May, 1620, John Roe 
(Rowe). 

[103] 



ADDENDA 

2. Joan, bapt. 29 April, 1593; buried 11 June, 
1593. 

3. John, bapt. 28 April, 1594. 

4. Richard, bapt. 22 February, 1595/6; married 
28 September, 1625, Jane Fowle. Removed 
to New England, where he died. 

5. William, bapt. 1 June, 1600. 

6. Amie, bapt. 26 April, 1603. 

7. Edward, bapt. 14 April, 1605. 

8. John, bapt. 22 February, 1606/7. 

Register of Hedcorn Parish Church. 

Children of Richard Borden "Baptized in England. 
{Hedcorn Regtr.) 

Richard, bapt. 9 July, 1626. 
Thomas, bapt. 3 October, 1627. 



[104] 



Descriptive Notes 



DESCRIPTIVE NOTES. 

NOTB A. 
This ancient and memorable oak, one of the 
largest in England, is doubtless the last remain- 
ing scion of the old forest of Andred, or Ander- 
ida, which, in Roman and Saxon times, extend',] 
some sixty miles in length and twenty to forty 
in breadth, and covered the whole of the weal- 
den of the counties of Kent, Surrey and Sussex. 
Its trunk is some 45 feet in circumference at 
6 feet above the soil, and its partly dead and 
hollow brani hes protruding from its still leafy 
center in every direction, with the open, hollow 
heart and! almost rocky appearance on the south 
side, give an impression of vast age and antiquity 
to this solitary tree. Its genus, botanically, is 
undoubtedly the indigenous old English oak, 
Quercus robur, with acorns and footstalks 
longer than those of the other variety known as 
Quercus sessi folia. Also this kind of oak is 
much longer lived and its timber more lasting 

[107] 



NOTES 

than any other. This fact, no doubt, accounts 
for its present existence. Lord Brabourne, in 
one of his entertaining books, written for young 
people, " The Witches of Headcorn," has dubbed 
it " St. Dunstan's Oak," but wherefore is not 
known, although Dunstan of Satanic renown 
was no doubt a denizen of the weald, that 
country of deep clays, grass and wheat. Finally, 
its twisted and knarly trunk and branches and 
horizontal boughs give an impression of sover- 
eignty and dignity, although decayed. Says 
Spenser: 

"... dry and dead, 
Still clad with reliques of its trophies old, 

Lifting to heaven its aged, hoary head, 
Whose foot on earth hath got but feeble hold. ..." 

Note B. 
Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, Borden, Kent. 
This ancient Norman church is built of flint 
with quoins of stone. It has a nave with north 
and south aisles, a chancel, west tower and 
south porch, a tiled roof with a parapet on the 
south part. The walls are buttressed with stone 
and flint. Against the south wall is a sun-dial, 
on which are these words : 

[108] 



NOTES 

" Fast flies the hour, fast flies the day, 
And quickly measures life away." 

The tower is of flint, without buttresses, and 
is lighted in the upper portion with two lights. 
It has a beautiful west doorway of late Norman 
date, with soffit of three cylindrical roll mould- 
ings ; also a fine perpendicular window westward, 
with stained glass, and in the basement are two 
deeply splayed Norman windows also in the west 
portion. The south doorway of the church 
has good mouldings and a hood. The porch is 
of flint with two windows with trefoiled single 
lights. The nave has a plastered roof carried on 
the beams. The piers are massive and have 
inverted impost mouldings with shafts in the 
angles. The south aisle has a flat roof on beams 
lying on stone brackets, with two perpendicular 
windows. The eastern part of this aisle has a 
boarded roof with massive moulded arched ribs. 
This portion is lighted by two decorated and one 
perpendicular windows, with also one lancet. 
There is a tablet to Robert Plot, LL.D., the 
historian of Oxford and Staffordshire, on which 
is a winged warrior sculptured, holding a spear 
of wood tipped with iron. He is treading on 

[109] 



NOTES 

what is probably a representation of the Devil, 
who has wings, a bull's head and human arms. 
The north aisle has a flattened roof and is lighted 
by four good windows. The font is new, but 
there is the bowl of an old unused one with five 
plain faces, while on the sixth face are the letters 
'B. D." and a curious sculptured design. 
(Tradition has it that these letters stand for 
" Bor-Den.") Both aisles extend as far eastward 
as the chancel. 

It has a stone reredos with arches supported 
by small marble shafts. There is a curious 
ancient piscina. The stone pulpit has two 
arches on shafts with floriated capitals, on which 
are figures of SS. Peter and Paul, to whom the 
church is dedicated (as is also that of Head- 
corn). There is a peal of eight bells. The 
registers date from 1555, and there is a fine ser- 
vice of old communion plate. 

Note C. 

Headcorn, in the weald of Kent, is situated in 
what is now Mid Kent, but a portion is in the 
division of East Kent. It is nine miles from the 
county town of Maidstone and forty-five from 

[110] 



NOTES 

London. Anciently, it was written Hedecrune, 
Hedycron, Hedecrone and Hedcron. Philipot, 
in 1659, says it was " a place famous for the best 
and chief corn and largest poultry ; " and Harris, 
who published his "History of Kent" in 1719, 
says it was "a place where corn was heedfully 
sown." A third and better explanation of the 
derivation of its name might be given. " Heda," 
or " Hede," was a name not uncommon among 
the Danes, of whom many we know settled in 
England, and the affix " cron " signifying a place ; 
i. e., Hede's cron, or dwelling. Cron is common 
in the North of Europe, as Cronheim, Cronberg, 
Cronstadt, Carlscrona, etc. This certainly ex- 
plains its name, and we find it called " Hede- 
cron " in the time of Henry VI (1450) . It was 
not mentioned in "Domesday Book" (1086), 
nor were many others, as Biddenden, Tenterden, 
etc. After the conquest the weald became 
apportioned out to different manors and religious 
houses, and from a wild forest gradually became 
cleared and more or less cultivated. Furley, in 
his "Annals of Headcorn," says: " This seques- 
tered spot remained nameless asaville, hamlet or 
dene, as far as I have been able to discover even 

[111] 



NOTES 

at the times of the Norman Conquest." On 
Hundred Roll of 1273 under Hundred of Eyborne, 
we find "The Dene of Hedycrone with the 
advowson of the church of the same was the 
demesne of the King Henry, father of the pres- 
ent King, who gave them to his hospital of 
Ospringe in perpetual alms." The denes, or in 
Saxon denherd, were swine pastures in the weald 
granted as appurtenances of different manors, 
etc., as before stated. 

Note D. 

This view gives a fair idea of the appearance 
of the village street when viewed from the sum- 
mit of the church tower looking eastward. It 
has excellent roads with good water and a com- 
plete system of drainage, now (1904) being in- 
augurated. The churchyard is well filled with 
memorials of those who have passed away. The 
River Beult winds through its meadows to the 
right of the view, while to the left rises the mill 
bank, with its old windmills and the road to 
Maidstone, which passes over it. At the farther 
end of the street eastward is the railway station 
on the direct Southeastern Continental Line by 

[112] 



NOTES 

which ingress and egress are now easy. The 
ancient Cloth Hall of fine oaken timber still 
stands, and is a good dwelling-house. 

Note E. 

This fine old church, built of Kentish rag and 
Bethersden marble, and dedicated to SS. Peter 
and Paul, with its ancient oak adjoining, is of 
great interest to the archaeologist and lover of 
natural history. Hussey, who wrote in 1852, 
thus described it: "A church of nave and chan- 
cel ; vestry on north side of the same, with south 
aisle and chancel ; south porch with a parvise 
and square west tower, with battlements and 
staircase. The aisle also has battlements and a 
stair turret. The building is generally perpen- 
dicular, though possibly the walls may be earlier. 
There are many imperfect remains of colored 
glass. Font perpendicular octagon, with angels, 
etc., on the sides; some portions of a fine per- 
pendicular screen are preserved," etc. 

" There is," says Sir S. Glynne, in his " Notes 
on Churches of Kent," "beneath one of the 
south windows a fine perpendicular tomb in the 
wall (probably one of the Colepepers) rising 

[113] 



NOTES 

above the window-sill, and having an embattled 
cornice." Weever, in 1631, says: "The Church 
of Headcorn was founded by one of the Colepep- 
pers, who (says Harris, 1719) were lords of the 
manor." This is corroborated by Hasted. In 
the Lady Chapel, which was doubtless part of a 
more ancient church, is an ancient piscina and 
a tomb which would appear from his will 
(A. D. 1531) to have been the burial place of 
William Borden, between his wives Joan and 
Thomasine, from which, as in many other cases, 
the brass has been removed. There is clear 
evidence that a church existed at Headcorn in 
24th Henry III, A. D. 1239, and that its patron- 
age was in the hands of the Crown, who gave it 
to the Hospital of St. Mary at Ospringe. In 
the taxation of Pope Nicholas, A. D. 1291, a 
crusade levy was made, when the vicarage of 
De Hedecrone was returned as under the See of 
Canterbury. These are, we may take, sufficient 
evidences of the age of a church at this place. 
No doubt the most early existent portion is that 
of the chancel and Lady Chapel, the nave, tower 
and south aisle having since been added, and 
their erection must have been about A. D. 1430. 

'[114] 



NOTES 

The junction of the two buildings is plainly to 
be seen, when looking from the tower on the 
roof below, the splay of the roof and eastern 
direction of same showing the difference. This 
must have been during the life of Thomas Bur- 
den, yeoman, participant with Cade and Culpep- 
per in the rebellion of that time, and who after- 
wards received pardon. (See State papers, 
Henry VI, Arch. Cant., Vol. VII.) The oak 
must then have been a tree in full vigor of growth. 

Note F. 

The nave of the church, with its exceedingly 
fine old oak roof, which is without doubt the 
same erected about A. D. 1430, and still in an 
admirable state of preservation, and a complete 
specimen of the almost everlasting kind of tim- 
ber which is furnished by the native oak, Quer- 
cus robur. The arch between it and the 
chancel, not in line with the same, shows plainly 
the junction of the then new portion of the 
church with the old. The pillars dividing this 
from the south aisle are of part Kentish rag-stone 
and partly of Bethersden marble, a kind of stone 
peculiar to the wealden of Kent, and when 

[115] 



NOTES 

polished resembling Purbeck stone. There are 
still remains of stained glass of an early date in 
the north windows and in the west windows of 
the tower, which are beautiful specimens of 
the architecture of the time. Philipot, 1610, 
says it contained on a tabard the Arms of Kel- 
sham. This Kelsham was a gentleman of Hed- 
cron, who received a free pardon for participation 
in Cade's rebellion with Thomas Burden in 
1450. (See State papers, Henry VI (1450) and 
Cant., Vol. VII.) Richard Borden was married 
at the altar in the church here shown to Joan 
Fowle, September 28, 1625. (See Headcorn 
Registers.) 

Note G. 

The Lady Chapel of Headcorn Church is 
doubtless one of its most interesting portions. 
Among the Patent Rolls in the Public Record 
Office is the license from Edward IV (6 Ed. 4, 
A. D. 1466) to Master Thomas Kent, cleric, and 
to Robert Kent, proctor, to found a perpetual 
chantry to celebrate Divine offices every day at 
the altar of the Blessed Mary in the Parish 
Church of Hedecrone, etc., etc., for the souls of 
the wives and parents of the said Thomas and 

[116] 



NOTES 

Robert, etc., and other pious uses. The chantry 
to be called " Kentys Chaunteraye " and the 
chaplain to be a worthy man. Here the officiat- 
ing priest sang daily Mass and prayed for the 
souls of the founders and others. Thus John 
Borden, in his will, dated A. D. 1469, says: " I 
will that an honest priest do sing in the church 
of Headcorn for the souls of my father Thomas 
and his wife Isabella, and of my grandfather 
Henry and his wife Robergia, and Thomas San- 
ders, for which I give 20 marks." There also, 
in A. D. 1531, was buried William Borden be- 
tween Joan and Thomasine, his wives. The 
mortuary stone of Bethersden marble covered 
by the seats is still there, but the brass has been 
removed in common with others. William Bor- 
den's funeral must have been in those old 
Catholic days quite an event — the robed officiat- 
ing priests winding through the churchyard and 
under the shadow of the gigantic oak, then in its 
prime. The entry into the church, the chanting 
of the priests and its solemn service were impress- 
ive pictures of the times. 



[117] 



NOTES 

Note H. 
This shows the south aisle of the church with 
the arch leading into the chantry and Lady 
Chapel and the tomb of Thomas Colepepper 
under the window next the arch. The font is 
very old, and is thought by some to be of greater 
age than the church. It is a perpendicular 
octagon, with angels and scrolls on the sides. 
Here were baptized many generations of dwellers 
in Headcorn, and certainly all the Bordens in 
continuation from Henry, A.D. 1370, to Richard, 
A. D. 1595, first of that name in the new world. 
Here also were baptized Richard, his son, A. D. 
1626, and Thomas, A. D. 1627, future fathers of 
the many Bordens and Burdens of America. 
With an imagination in tune with the surround- 
ings, what scenes might be conjured belonging 
to those past ages ! 

Note I. 

This house, at the northeast corner of the 
churchyard and on the street leading towards 
Maidstone, is in its character an early example 
of the timbered house of about A. D. 1400, of 
which there are many specimens in the weald 

[118] 



NOTES 

of Kent. The timbers are still in good preser- 
vation and of bony hardness, while its roof 
inside, thick-raftered, with great kingposts and 
overhanging eaves, shows it to have been for- 
merly a building of importance. A fine stone chim- 
ney and chimney-piece stood formerly where the 
shop front now is, and several arched windows, 
stopped, are still to be found beneath the plaster 
in the walls. There are remains of an ancient 
garden wall of great blocks of Bethersden marble 
to the north of the premises, which show it to 
have been a house of importance in its day. A 
careful perusal of the will of William Borden 
(1531) establishes this as his residence of " Horch- 
ard Podsole," as the lands adjoining fit the de- 
scriptions there given. It is now in various 
tenements, and is owned by a descendant* of 
the family, by purchase some years since. 

William Borden took the position of yeoman, 
and his friendship with Sir William Wotten, who 
lived at Boughton Place, only four miles distant, 
and who was one of the Privy Councillors of 
Henry VIII, has, as a matter of record, come 
down to this day. 

* Thomas Witherden Burden, Esq. 

[119] 



NOTES 

Note J. 

This old tenement of British oak timber and 
plaster is doubtless of ancient date, and was 
originally the residence of the vicars of Head- 
corn, or, in some cases, of the officiating curate. 
Its date may be safely placed at about the year 
A. D. 1400, or a little prior to the age of the 
tower and aisles and nave of the existing church, 
which would probably be A. D. 1430. William 
Kettelsden, afterwards Sir William Kettelsden, 
lived in this house in 1507, and he sold it to 
William Borden, of Horchyard Podsole, in Head- 
corn. In 1595, when Richard Borden was 
baptized, the incumbent was Robert Reader, 
whose relative, Margaret Reader, married, as his 
second wife, Thomas Borden in May, 1583. 
She was, therefore, stepmother to Matthew Bor- 
den, who was, by the registers of Headcorn, 
Churchwarden of Headcorn in 1595, and the 
father of Richard. 

The entrance to the house is still by a heavy 
antique oaken door, thickly studded with large, 
square-headed nails. This opens into a wide 
passage, extending through from front to back. 
On the right side are two rooms — one formerly 

[120] 



NOTES 

used as a small sitting-room, and the other as 
the larder, or, as then called, the buttery. On 
the left of the passage another arched door led 
into the daily living-room of the family, with its 
large chimney-corners and open hearth, where 
logs burned bright in winter. Past the chimney 
was a passage leading to the study or receiving- 
room of the resident. The bedrooms over were 
floored with oak boards, while the ceilings, both 
above and below, were of great square beams and 
uprights. This style of dwelling, with variations, 
was the general type of the time. The house 
is still inhabited (1904) by the clerk of the 
parish. With regard to the word " buttery " 
used here for larder, it was common to the 
houses of the gentry of the period, as well as of 
those of less degree ; vide the old Elizabethan 
ballad of the old and young courtier, where it 
says: 

" An old buttery hatch worn quite off its hooks 

And a kitchen that maintained half a dozen old cooks." 



[121] 



RD2ti 





DOBBS BROS. 

LIBMAMY .INOINO 

S-TAUGUSTINE 



FLA. 


































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